Lilium Inter Spinas
by mellowenglishgal
Summary: When Ryan is kicked out of Dawn's, his sister runs away with him; they are both taken to Newport Beach by Mr Cohen. How will Lily adapt to The O.C., especially when Marissa's twin brother Garrett takes a shine to her?
1. You Could Do Worse

**A.N.**: Please do not fret; I'm not deleting this story, but I have edited it and cleaned up some of the chapters, making the story flow better, and changing a few things from canon that wouldn't work with an OC. Please, please review, I'd like to hear your thoughts on the new version. Thank you to _Soapfan2006_ and _Dark-n-Twisty_ for your artwork, and to everyone who has reviewed, thank you.

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**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_01_

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She heard the chink of glass on glass and knew her mother was pouring herself another drink; she had taken two before leaving the house to collect Ryan from juvi. The television blared, some sports game A.J. had been watching since midday; the radio spewed an old rock song, and her mother started yelling. She peeked round the corner, spying Ryan standing just inside the front-door, which stood ajar.

"I can't do this any more, Ryan," her mother said tremulously, her arms trembling as she sloshed another drink into her glass. "I can't."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Ryan said repentantly, and he looked it. Ryan had never been arrested before; she and Ryan were the _good_ kids on the block, the ones who rarely got into trouble, were liked and respected _because_ they were good kids. Trey, he was the bad seed, the one they all anticipated would go the same way as their dad, locked in a six-by-nine cell for the rest of his life.

"I want you out of my house," Dawn shouted unsteadily. "I want you out!"

Lily strained to listen, and in the split-second Ryan stood spluttering in incredulous disbelief, she made a decision, dragging a worn duffel-bag from beneath her bed; she opened the top two drawers of the dresser she shared with Ryan and quickly and efficiently packed her clothes into the duffel, along with several books, her walkman, several CDs, her ancient plush-toy, Baby (her even more ancient doll) her small collection of jewellery, her box of photographs and the impressive wad of emergency cash she usually kept stuffed in a pair of rarely-used socks. She brought the battered old TARDIS lunch-box out of the back of the closet, filled with her childhood treasures, and stuffed her toothbrush, shampoo and a towel in the top of her backpack when she heard the crash of the coffee-table buckling beneath Ryan's weight as A.J.'s fist sent him flying into it, and the sound of her mother yelling about the destruction of her second-hand furniture and the abuse of her son.

There was one thing Lily paused over, gazing regretfully at the dimensions of the handmade, beautifully finished little dolls' house on top of the dresser. Amid Ryan's skateboards and other boyish stuff, the dolls' house looked contrastingly sweet. It was handmade, a little too big to carry on her bicycle but so precious to her, she regretted leaving it behind. She wrote a small note, hoping Dawn would see it; _Will come back for this later_.

She stole past A.J. as he stood in the doorway of the bedroom she and Ryan had shared since childhood, his hideously tattooed biceps bulging as he glared over Ryan, watching him shove clothes hastily into an overnight bag. His cheekbones already gleaming pink, Ryan's eyes were withdrawn and shuttered with the familiar post-traumatic expression Lily usually found reflected in the bathroom-mirror, and she set her second-hand bicycle down, set her TARDIS lunch-box in the basket on the front, jumped atop the bike, and pushed alongside Ryan out of the yard and down the street. They slowed after a few blocks and the fresh memory of A.J.'s most recent beating had passed them by, and Ryan coasted on his BMX, glancing at Lily.

"She didn't kick_ you_ out," he remarked quietly, staring at her as if wondering whether she wasn't a mirage or hologram, instead of the real deal. He was probably wondering why she had come with him. Lily shrugged, pedalling idly. She wasn't going to stay in a place where her brother wasn't. No matter where it was, she would go with him. She wouldn't stay in that house with her drunk mother and her physically abusive boyfriends.

Aside from college, or at least, more likely at this point, marriage, there were very few chances for Lily to get out of her mother's home. Ryan getting unceremoniously booted from their childhood home—_that_ was an opportunity Lily would never have predicted, but she liked to think she was an opportunity-taker. Wherever Ryan was headed, Lily would be there with him.

By the time they reached the freeway, barely fifteen minutes from their neighbourhood, Lily couldn't help wondering…where were they going to end up? She had nearly a thousand dollars in savings in the bank, and five hundred in cash tucked in her duffel. That could get them some travel-money, rent for a little while…they could start over somewhere new, away from their mom, away from A.J., away from Chino. They stopped at the plaza by the edge of the freeway, and Ryan dug into his jeans pockets for coins to use one of the few dilapidated pay-phones located by the low cinderblock wall.

"Who're you…calling?" Lily asked quietly, leaning her bike against her legs as she sat down on the wall, her shoulders aching mildly from carrying the heavy duffel and her backpack. Ryan glanced at her and shrugged subtly, counting the coins in his palm, and dropped several into the coin-slot of the pay-phone nearest him. She dug into her shorts pocket and dragged out a dollar ninety-seven in change, more than enough for a few more phone-calls for Ryan to make.

While Ryan tried some of his friends, Lily listened to the responses, saw the answers in Ryan's expression rather than in the words of the people he was speaking to so easily; there wasn't room or money enough to spread for two houseguests. Lily was acceptant of that; their friends' families, like her own, were all struggling working-class and had trouble raising their own kids, let alone taking in someone else's.

But Ryan was getting angry. He was an angry kid, from all the beatings and emotional brutalising they had lived through; he was prone to getting into fights because of the short fuse their mom had given him, and while Lily listened to him asking his deadbeat friends whether they could crash on a couch for the night, playing musical-phones with everyone telling him to try someone else, he ended up throwing the phone at the receiver, the muscle ticking in his jaw, the telltale sign that he was getting ready to punch something, and he took out his frustrations on the phone-booth.

Lily averted her eyes, and pretended not to notice. When she was around violence, she did one of two things; was the victim of it, or tried to imagine she was in a place where her family was whole and happy, where she had never been beaten to within an inch of her life, or had to take care of her drunk mother when she got laid off again, where her first ever pay-cheque from the florist's hadn't gone to paying the bills because her mom's boyfriend had used all Dawn's pay-cheque on drugs and smokes.

She didn't know where she and Ryan were going to end up, but she knew anything had to be better than life with Dawn. She and Ryan had played the grown-ups for too long; Lily pulled in money by cooking meals for elderly neighbours, babysitting kids, and working three different jobs during the summer, and only two during school-time.

She was lucky it had been pay-day yesterday; she and Ryan had paused at the bank so Lily could pay in her three pay-cheques. That gave them a considerable amount of cash to play around with, if they needed it, and Lily began to suspect they would.

"Sorry," Ryan said softly, and she glanced up, fiddling with the last of her loose change. She flicked her eyes over him, in his grey hoodie, leather jacket and scuffed Doc Martens, with two red patches on his cheeks and an angry and upset scowl. He knew she didn't like violence. While he and Trey had learned to deal with the violence in their childhoods by lashing out at others when provoked, as the youngest, and with the sweetest disposition, Lily was the most traumatised by it.

"Lily…you should go home," Ryan said quietly. Lily glanced up, fixing her brother in the eye and holding his gaze.

"I'm n-not…going back th-there," Lily said softly, but with a fierceness that left no room for argument. A.J. hadn't been the worst of her mother's boyfriends, but he hadn't been the best of them either, and he hadn't been shy in beating the hell out of her when he'd had one too many, or he thought she'd been giving him a saucy glare. Ryan licked his lips thoughtfully and looked down at the ground. "What're we…gonna d-do?" she asked softly, not really asking it as a question, just…saying it. Ideas. They could get away—maybe stay the night in a cheap motel and…and plan their journey. Where did they want to go? Where did _she_ want to go? Anywhere but Chino, that was where.

Ryan sighed heavily and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, staring moodily at the pay-phone. He frowned, and drew a crumpled bit of white paper from his pocket. He glanced at it, glanced up at Lily, and she saw decisions being made in his dark-sapphire eyes before she could even ask what the paper was. Ryan was quiet, but his face was very expressive, at least to her, who knew him best.

Before she could ask what he was doing, he had the slip of paper clamped between his teeth and was approaching the pay-phone with his last quarter, punching in the number he read off the card. Lily sat up straighter, wondering and watching…

"Mr Cohen?" he said politely. "It's…Ryan Atwood… Yeah, uh… I'm sorry to call you, but… My mom kicked me out of the house. My sister, too… Okay… Okay… Okay." Lily frowned, confused, as Ryan told the Mr Cohen at the other end of the line where they were, and hung up.

"Who was that?" she asked interestedly, as Ryan tucked the card into the back pocket of his jeans. Ryan glanced at her.

"Public defender," he replied.

"Your…l-lawyer?" Lily asked, raising her eyebrows interestedly. Ryan nodded.

"He said if I needed anything," he said quietly. Lily stared at her brother. Ryan wasn't the kind to ever ask for help in anything; homework, a job, tuning up their mom's old car, getting into trouble at school, fights with school rivals, he always insisted, silently, on sorting his problems out himself.

"W-why did y-you c-call…him?" Lily asked mildly. Ryan glanced at her, and explanation read plainly in his eyes.

"We need help," he said simply. For himself, Ryan never asked for anything. But he would walk across the entire world to fetch a grain of sand if Lily asked for it. Lily asking for anything was rarer than Ryan asking for help.

And Lily was with her brother. He probably knew there was no convincing her to go back home, especially not when her most valiant protector had been removed from the situation. Only Ryan knew she had been waiting for her chance to get out of that house, get away from Dawn, from the alcohol and drugs and poverty… She could go somewhere, get a few jobs, take classes at night, do something with her life without having to take care of her mother and eldest brother, have them mooching off her pay-cheques for booze and smokes when they had an empty refrigerator and the electric company was threatening to turn everything off if the latest bill wasn't paid.

She would go somewhere, and she and Ryan could share a tiny place, but it would be theirs, and it would be _clean_, tidy. She wouldn't keep alcohol in the house and at Christmas and Thanksgiving, she and Ryan would share the time together, just the two of them, being kind to each other, no crying, no drink, no policemen hauling another of their mother's boyfriends off to the precinct overnight for another domestic-violence alert from Mrs Diaz next-door.

"What can…he d-do?" Lily wondered aloud, of Ryan's public defender.

How could Mr Cohen help them, two homeless teenagers without a high-school diploma between them—yet. Lily had been on the Principal's List last year and the year before, had straight A's and was in line to graduate first in their class. It didn't say much about their school if Lily was the best, but she was proud of her grades, proud of her attendance rate, the fact that she had never gotten into trouble.

"I don't know," Ryan said quietly. "Something, I guess. He is a lawyer."

"Maybe he c-could…" Lily sighed, glancing away from Ryan, watching the cars rush past. Of the few television episodes she had managed to catch in recent months, one had dealt with a teenager becoming emancipated from his divorcing parents. And with everything Dawn had put her kids through, the fact that Lily had been paying for her entire family, the mortgage, the bills, the health-insurance and SMOG testing on the car, gas and bail, groceries was more than enough to prove to a judge that she was able to take care of herself financially.

"Maybe what?" Ryan asked, scuffing his boot against the cinderblock wall.

"I've j-just b-been…thinking, l-lately," Lily said softly, glancing up at Ryan, squinting in the sun. She hadn't told anybody, not even Ryan, but she had been thinking about leaving home. She didn't want to have to wait until she was eighteen; that was so far away. She wasn't yet even sixteen. She had been doing a little research—as much as she could around her three fulltime jobs; but she could definitely qualify for emancipation, was over fourteen and could support herself.

But she'd been afraid. Afraid of abandoning Ryan the way everybody else in their life had abandoned them. Ryan had come to expect it, that if he screwed up, people would give up on him. She shook her head, sighing, and dug into her duffel-bag, bringing out a much-loved deck of cards. They were so worn they felt like silk against her fingers, and, sitting on the cinderblock wall by the road, playing _Go_ _Fish_, while they waited for…something.

While it was loud with the traffic passing by on the freeway, and her bottom was numb from sitting on the concrete wall, it was warm, and she was with Ryan, so whatever was going to happen, well, they'd be in it together, the way they had since they were five years old and moved from Fresno when their father had been arrested for armed robbery. She wasn't worried, really, because whatever was coming in their lives had to be better than what they had endured.

When _Go_ _Fish_ got old, Lily stretched her legs and repacked her cards in her duffel-bag, and she saw Ryan straighten up, watching something intensely. She followed his gaze, and saw a gleaming black Jaguar drawing closer, indicating to turn into the roadside plaza.

It was a _beautiful_ car, one of the new models—if Trey's car magazines told her right. Tinted rear windows, sleek and powerful built, the engine a low, delicious growl. Lily would have made love to that car if it was possible.

The side window rolled down as the car drew in, slowing down to a stop right in front of them, and a tanned man with very dark hair, thick eyebrows and a genial mouth appeared, taking off a pair of sunglasses. He appeared to be wearing a suit, and the top button was undone, the tie loosened, and Lily…well, she didn't know if she liked _him_ immediately, but there was something about him that made her think she liked the look of him. It was his mouth, she thought. There was something about his mouth that was…kind. Mean men had hard mouths, she had noticed. But his had fine lines at the corners, as if he spent a good deal of time smiling.

"I told you," he said, his eyes on Ryan. "You could do worse."

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**A.N.**: Please review. I know not much has changed from my original first-chapter, but the changes occur in the next few so the story flows better and makes more sense!


	2. Keeping Things Interesting

**A.N.**: I am so in love with the van der Woodsen's penthouse on _Gossip Girl_, and with Kirsten's degree in Art History from UC Berkeley, I think she'd be more artistically-inclined than her career lets her explore, so I love the idea of the Cohens' house being decorated the same as the vdW's penthouse; if you can imagine the Cohen house laid out the same way, but with the different areas of the vdW penthouse placed in each room, that's how I envision the Cohens' house. I especially love Lily van der Woodsen's at-home office area; I think Kirsten would use it a lot.

I also kind of like the idea of bringing in Nate Archibald. I want Jimmy Cooper and Anne Archibald to be cousins through Jimmy's mother, sister to The Grandfather, so you'll see him at one point. And I've decided I love the restaurant idea way too much to let Caleb ruin it, so I'm taking it in a different direction with a new investor. (Look out for Oscar, and his retiring dad).

Oh, and in the future Lily will push Julie Cooper into getting off her ass, stop feeling sorry for herself and put her fierce Newpsie talents to good use to earn her own income to support her family.

I've also brought Kaitlin in, as the _fifth_-grader Seth says she is in the beginning of the show! Not the fif_teen_-year-old whiney loser she's portrayed for plot-twists (I have issues with the actress who later portrays Kaitlin, as she appears in _Gossip_ _Girl_ with almost exactly the same characterisation of the girl she's portraying). I was undecided whether to keep Kaitlin in this story, since Garrett and Marissa are twins, but now I need her as the only reason Garrett lives with Julie.

For any hints, suggestions, requests for plot-lines, character developments, twists and events, please feel free to PM me.

I'm bringing in OC Oscar (modelled after Toby Hemingway), and I'll be jumbling the timelines (so that they're actually consistent!) and bringing in Taylor Townsend and Zach Stevens early on. Maybe Lindsay Gardner too, I don't know yet. I didn't like her.

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**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_02_

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Lily didn't know what to make of Mr Cohen. When he spoke, he was jovial, with a thick New York accent, and she found herself listening to what he had to say. He was a public defender, yet he drove an expensive car, and his suits and ties were very fine quality, and his watch was nondescript but designer.

Dawn had had a boyfriend last year—one she had actually liked, and wanted to leave with him when he'd moved away—quite like Mr Cohen, only more blue-collar; he worked construction and lived honestly, and when he had talked, people had listened to what he'd had to say, and did what he asked. Lily thought Mr Cohen was like him.

"You must be Lillian," Mr Cohen said, holding out his hand. "I'm Sandy Cohen, Ryan's attorney."

"It's nice to…m-m-m-meet you," Lily said politely, shaking his hand; it was warm and enveloped her slender fingers in his grasp. It was comforting, and his palms were soft; she could tell he'd never set his fist to someone in his life—or at least, since he was a kid. "Th-thank you…for c-coming."

"Don't mention it," Mr Cohen said, waving it aside as if it was nothing that he'd been called out an hour's drive from his office at the end of his working day, and on a Thursday-night no less. "Now, what're we gonna do about these bikes?" He parked the car and popped the trunk; Lily brought the towel from her duffel-bag, and Mr Cohen helped spread it over the lip of the trunk, so the metal of the bikes wouldn't scratch the paintwork, and they manoeuvred Ryan's BMX and then Lily's bicycle into the trunk carefully, so neither would get dislodged or damage the car, which was what Lily was most worried about. The car had to be worth more than their mother's house was worth.

Ryan climbed into the front passenger seat with Mr Cohen, holding his backpack in his lap, and Mr Cohen made sure Lily's seatbelt was buckled before he pulled out of his parking spot and rejoined the freeway.

It was a quiet ride, wherever it was they were going, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Mr Cohen didn't like his air-conditioning too cold, and kept the back windows open for the warm breeze, and whenever a song came onto the radio that he knew, Mr Cohen had a habit of humming along. Mr Cohen didn't say much; Lily didn't think she would have either, if she was in his position.

She couldn't understand how Mr Cohen could be so selfless, and so…so accepting. It was strange that all of their friends and neighbours hadn't had the time or space to take them in, but a perfect stranger appeared after just one phone-call to take them off the street. He didn't seem to want to know what the situation with their mother was, where they lived, whether she could be talked out of their expulsion from her home, or if they had anyone else. He just got them strapped up in his car, made sure they had all their things from around the cinderblock wall, and drove off, taking them someplace safe so they could wrap their heads around their situation.

The further Mr Cohen drove, the more the scenery around them changed. From a rambling, tumbledown sprawl of shoddy neighbourhoods and industrial sites, bare stretches of useless fields brown from the drought, hills started swelling either side of the road, hills covered with greenery and trees, and then… She saw it.

The ocean. Spreading sapphire-blue as far as the horizon, where it met the blazing sun-gilded sky, waves churned and crashed against rock formations swarming with seals and gulls, sweeping up onto golden beaches speckled with brightly-coloured swimsuits and burnished hair; beautiful homes she had rarely seen the likes of began to appear on one side, as the waves continued to rise and swell and gently lick at the sand on the other side.

As they drove along a beachside road, she saw girls playing volleyball, teenaged boys throwing around a Frisbee on the sand, as if they were being filmed for a _Gidget_ movie or something. Surfers with their wet-suit arms hanging down by their legs carried long, glossy surfboards to soft-top SUVs and Jeeps, and Lily sat back, amazed.

She couldn't remember the last time she had seen the ocean first-hand. She could remember the swimsuit she'd worn, though; red, with tiny white polka-dots and a little bow at the neckline, ruffles on the bottom and over the hips. She'd been about…eight, nine maybe. Trey had been too cool to go into the waves with her, but Ryan had loved it. They had loved the freedom in the ocean while their mom got drunk under the umbrella they had borrowed from a neighbour.

"This is a nice car," she heard Ryan say, and she pressed the little button for the window, which moved upward noiselessly, closing off the circulation of fresh air in the car, but allowing her to hear Ryan and Mr Cohen's conversation. "I didn't know your kind of lawyer made money."

"No, we don't," Mr Cohen said negligently, and then Lily saw his smile. He had an unassuming smile, one that didn't hide anything, and she liked him instantly because of that smile. "My wife does."

Peering into the front of the car, Lily saw a flash of gold on Mr Cohen's left hand; she hadn't realised Mr Cohen might get into trouble for picking them up at the side of the freeway. What would Mr Cohen's wife do when he arrived home for the weekend with two stray teenagers, one of them a juvenile delinquent, no less?

Lily couldn't help wondering, "D-do…d-do you d-do this…sort of th-thing…v-very often?"

"What, bring stray kids home?" Mr Cohen asked, grinning easily as he glanced into the rear-view mirror at her. "No. This is a first."

"Will your wife mind?" Ryan asked quietly, glancing at Mr Cohen from the corner of his eye.

Mr Cohen chuckled jovially. "Keeps things interesting. Reason she married me."

_She must really love him a lot_, Lily thought, wondering if Mr Cohen did this sort of thing often. As they drove past beautiful manicured houses that got bigger and bigger the closer to the coastline and the higher up the hills they got, she couldn't imagine Mr Cohen bringing some of the kids she went to school with home here, especially not when he stopped at a guard-house, and the houses easily trebled in size within the first block. She wondered what kind of job Mrs Cohen had, and whether she was as nice as her husband seemed to be.

Through the wide gate, she found it even more difficult to imagine Mr Cohen bringing home juvenile criminals. The houses…they had to be worth millions, and each of the cars parked in the driveways had to be hundreds of thousands of dollars each. She guessed the wives all had expensive jewellery and the husbands had expensive toys. They probably belonged to country clubs and went to parties like in the Edith Whartonbook she had read a while ago. She saw a few people walking their dogs, and someone driving a white golf-cart across the street.

The sun had begun to set as they drove into what she had noted was Newport Beach on a 'You are now entering…' sign, and the sky as they drove into a quiet cul-de-sac was magnificent, rich burnt-oranges, gilded hibiscus pinks, and royal purples, all gilded with rays of sunlight on the evening clouds hovering over the horizon. As they approached the end of the cul-de-sac, the sky was darkening further, and Mr Cohen coasted effortlessly to a driveway directly opposite, which had a steep slope and led up to one of the most beautiful homes she had ever seen. The outside of it was illuminated with soft amber lights, and the enormous windows were all lit up; a pale gold Range Rover stood by the door to the three-car garage, and exotic flowers bloomed all over the flowerbeds right under the windows and running along the black iron fence separating Mr Cohen's property from the one down below on the hill.

_What _does_ Mrs Cohen do?_ Lily wondered, staring in awe at the house.

She had never wanted much out of life; a husband who wasn't violent and children who outlived her without spending any time incarcerated. Staring at Mr Cohen's house, she found herself with a mild tummy-ache, longing for a home like this, a home she could be proud of when she left work every day.

She knew the probability of her having a home like this, with her family's background and her start in life, was next to nothing. But still, she couldn't help wondering… She bet any kids Mr and Mrs Cohen might have had grown up running about a yard unconcerned whether they ran barefoot over broken glass from bottles that had been smashed during an argument, and that even though there were locks on the bedroom doors, they didn't _need_ them. That was what she wanted; security. Safety: A place she could have for her own and know that whatever happened inside those walls, nothing would happen to her without her consent.

Mr Cohen turned the key in the ignition and the car quieted, the air-conditioning humming to a stop, and the radio blurting into silence. Lily unbuckled her seatbelt apprehensively, wondering what came next.

"Uh…" Mr Cohen said, catching himself before he climbed out of the car. He glanced from Ryan to Lily. "You know, why don't you two wait here for a minute? I'll be back." He made to grab his car-keys, but he glanced subtly at Ryan, remembering just why he had met Ryan in the first place, and Lily heard her brother's voice.

"It's no fun if the key's in the car," he remarked quietly, and Mr Cohen smiled subtly, plugged the key back in the ignition, and climbed out of the car. Lily sighed when the door closed, and the light above Ryan's head faded out, and she watched Mr Cohen jog over to the front-door, letting himself into the house.

"I h-hope he…d-doesn't g-get into any t-t-trouble for…b-b-bringing us," Lily said softly, and Ryan twisted around in his seat.

"Don't think he thought about what would happen if he did," he said, and Lily nodded her agreement. It was an extremely kind thing he was doing, but he was really going out on a limb bringing two strangers, one a convicted juvenile delinquent, into his home. "He won't get in trouble for bringing _you_ home," Ryan said, glancing back at her. Lily licked her lips and eyed her brother's profile.

"Why'd you…d-d-do it?" she asked quietly. Ryan was _smart_; they had both always been incredibly smart, but she was the only one who put any effort into bettering herself through her schoolwork; she had figured the best and really only way she could get herself a college education was through an academic scholarship.

But he'd never gotten into trouble before, never been _arrested_ before, and she

Guessed it was down to Trey that Ryan had jumped into that car, but still…he'd had a choice. Get in the car, don't get in the car. She knew which choice she would have made. She was afraid of her eldest brother, yes, but she wasn't afraid to follow her own instincts, especially where Trey was concerned. She wouldn't have gotten into that car, and when Dawn had gotten the phone-call about Ryan, Lily had been astounded that Ryan had been stupid enough to.

Ryan sighed heavily, and before she knew it the passenger door was unlatched and Ryan was climbing out of the car, taking a crumpled packet of cigarettes and a Zippo lighter from his jacket. She licked her lips as the car door shut with finality, upset that Ryan was shutting her out, the way he did sometimes when he knew he had messed up, and was angrier with himself than anyone else was with him because of it.

The quietness in the car was…uncomfortable, so Lily looped her arms through the straps of her bags and carefully extricated them from Mr Cohen's expensively-upholstered car, leaning the bags against the stone wall of the flowerbed and closing the door as quietly as she could. The only thing she could hear was…the ocean. Waves rushing softly in the distance, and crickets chirping excitably closer by. It was…serene, a beautiful sound, utterly unfamiliar and dreamlike. Honing in on a brilliant flower the colour of a raspberry and the size of a small plate, she recognised it as a hibiscus and, closing her eyes and blocking out the light of the house, could imagine herself in Hawaii, on the beach, with the waves, the crickets, the flowers…the warmth.

She sighed and straightened up when she heard voices—soft voices, away from the house, not within it; she followed the voices to the end of the driveway, and found Ryan, smoking, and staring at a teenaged girl standing at the end of the neighbouring driveway.

She was tall, and angular in that unflattering skinniness that made tabloid covers, and brought up anxious conversations about eating disorders; her hipbones and shoulder-blades jutted against the fabric of her clothing. Her face was wide, with jutting cheekbones, and she wore a little too much dark eye-makeup and bronzer; she had arranged her light-brunette hair neatly, but the gentle breeze caressed it lovingly as she idly smoked a cigarette she must have bummed from Ryan. She might have looked pretty but for the cigarette; Lily didn't like smokers, and it annoyed her that both Ryan and Theresa, her two closest friends, smoked.

The girl flicked her eyes over Lily, her eyebrows flickering in interest, and she glanced from Lily to Ryan and back; Ryan, noticing her distraction, glanced over his shoulder, and Lily glanced from him to the girl, licking her lips nervously. Lily wasn't good with new people—with _any_ people, really, besides Ryan and Theresa, her two best and oldest friends. She didn't like letting people in.

Lily glanced at the girl again, feeling like someone should say something to break the silence that, for some reason, seemed awkward. She felt like she had interrupted something. She had seen Ryan with enough girls to know when he had clicked with someone, and this girl…well, she was pretty. A little angular, a little heavy-handed with the bronzer, but pretty.

When Ryan didn't make introductions, Lily said shyly, "Hi." She wasn't really one for small-talk, or any kind of talk, really; anyone who knew her family knew _she_ was the quiet one, even including she tried to be polite when she spoke.

"So, this is your…?" she said, glancing at Ryan for him to fill in the blank.

"Sister; this is Lily," Ryan said, and the girl nodded. The sound of footsteps kept them from going any further into the awkward first meeting, and Lily glanced over her shoulder as Mr Cohen walked down the driveway.

"Hi, Marissa!" Mr Cohen called, and the girl quickly dropped and trod on the cigarette Ryan had given her.

"Hey, Mr Cohen," she smiled. "I was just meeting your niece and nephew." Lily glanced at Mr Cohen. Dark haired, with thick, slightly out of control eyebrows and strong features, he was about as far from Lily's Aryan looks as could be.

Mr Cohen seemed to take it in his stride. "Oh! My favourite niece and nephew. Ryan and Lily," Mr Cohen said, clapping a hand on Ryan's shoulder familiarly. "All the way from Seattle."

"Seattle?" the girl—Marissa—said, eyeing Ryan with a hint of a smirk.

"Dad lives there," Ryan remarked smoothly. "Mom lives in Boston."

"Mm," Marissa smirked.

"So, we're all really excited about your fashion-show fundraiser tomorrow night," Mr Cohen said, and Marissa raised her eyebrows.

"Really? You are?" Marissa said, her voice hinting at disbelief. Mr Cohen smoothed his dark hair back, smiling, and then he dropped the smile.

"No." Marissa laughed, and the sound of an engine rumbling made Lily glance around. An enormous, glossy black pickup truck drew closer; surfboards were strapped to the roof-rack, and as far as she could tell, there was only one person inside it; the window dropped down as the car stopped, and a blonde boy with blue eyes was revealed, wearing a striped Abercrombie shirt and a puka-shell necklace.

"Hey, you should come by, check it out," Marissa said, glancing at Ryan, and smiling at Lily. "If you don't have any other plans. You might enjoy it. See ya!"

"Goodnight," Mr Cohen said politely, as Marissa climbed into the black truck, leaning in to give the boy a peck on the lips. Lily glanced at Ryan, who was staring after the girl as if he'd been struck dumb.

"Let's go inside," Mr Cohen said, smiling. Lily followed behind him, reaching for her bags when she reached the flowerbed, and Mr Cohen paused. "There's no smoking in this house," he said, eyeing Ryan's cigarette, and Ryan's expression turned regretful; he flicked the cigarette away, and Lily frowned at him as he hunkered up the driveway; Mr Cohen dropped back to grind the cigarette out on the tarmac.

The external of the house was beautiful; inside, it was stunning. It was like…nothing she had ever seen before. It was set out very formally, with clean, simple lines, shapes and rhythms; white sofas were decorated with vibrant cushions and blankets; a charcoal-navy rug covered most of the area and every piece of furniture seemed to either be modern, with clean lines and vibrant colours, or antique, topped with faux leather, reupholstered with a colourful zigzag fabric, and decorated with art-glass, photographs, crystal and _flowers_; the walls were hung with various pieces of vibrant artwork Lily recognised from art books she had flicked through in the public library, and huge, open archways led to other rooms; she caught a glimpse of a blood-crimson rug and a round table in one room, a gorgeous kitchen through another archway, and Mr Cohen led her and Ryan through a seemingly flawless wall of windows out into an enormous garden, which was dedicated to a wide patio, a flawless emerald lawn, and a swimming-pool that disappeared on the farthest side.

A little annex, a miniature house in itself that was probably only a fraction smaller than their mother's house, stood at the far corner of the property, with a built-in fireplace attached to it, surrounded by sofas and an outdoor kitchen, tea-lights glittering in the breeze. Beyond the pool-house, there was nothing but dark sky, and Lily wondered what was beyond. The windows of the pool-house, which were floor-to-ceiling and panoramic, were illuminated, but shielded with diaphanous white sheers; two shadows moved within, and Mr Cohen opened one of the doors to allow them inside.

Two women were straightening out the large bed in the centre of the little house, one, pristine, champagne-blonde and chic, the other brunette, dressed in casual pants and a loose floral blouse. The impeccable blonde had large diamonds glittering at her ears, throat and hands, and it was Lily's guess that this was Mrs Cohen, who looked a little nervous, but smiled.

"So this is the queen of the manor herself," Mr Cohen said, gesturing to the blonde woman. Delicate little features, with sparkling blue eyes and a dainty little nose, she could have passed for Lily's mother. "This is my wife, Kirsten."

"Hello, Ryan, Lillian," Mrs Cohen said, smiling at each of them in turn. "Welcome to our home. If you need anything, Rosa here can help you." The Hispanic woman smiled warmly, having finished with the comforter, and Lily licked her lips and glanced at the two women. She suddenly felt overcome by their graciousness; Mr Cohen seemed not to have given his wife any warning of what he had done, yet here she was, welcoming them to her beautiful home like the most generous hostess.

"Thank you," Ryan said softly, glancing nervously at the women. "Thanks very much." Mrs Cohen glanced nervously at her husband when silence fell, and Mr Cohen clapped a hand familiarly on Ryan's shoulder.

"Th-thank…you," Lily said softly, and Mrs Cohen smiled subtly.

"We'll see you in the morning," he said, smiling easily. "Make yourselves comfortable."

"G-g-goodnight," Lily managed to say, and Rosa and Mrs Cohen smiled as they exited the little house, Mr Cohen holding the door open for them like no man Lily had ever met. Mr Cohen closed the door quietly, and the white sheers fell into place over the window, blocking their view of the garden, and the Cohens' view of them.

Ryan sighed heavily, his eyes wide as he stared around. Lily did the same, carefully setting her bags down by the side of the white sofa. Carrying on the same decorative theme of the formal sitting-room in the main house, the little house had the same white sofa, a rich dark midnight rug, and the little kitchenette area came complete with a little oven, and a large blue panel that Lily investigated, revealing a copious collection of china, glassware and a few essential culinary dishes. The counter served as a joint bookcase and art showcase, with several pieces of pottery and art-glass amongst books on art; there were a few smaller pieces of artwork mounted on the wall by the steps up to the kitchen, and above the dresser that stood beside the door to a private and very new bathroom.

The entire pool-house could fit into their home in Chino.

Lily liked the simplicity, the cleanliness, the artwork. She wondered if Mrs Cohen had hired someone to decorate the house, or whether it was all her own tastes. There was a snakeskin trinket box on the bedside cabinet that looked like it could have been added by Mr Cohen.

There were several board-games stacked neatly in the shelves of the kitchen counter, overlooking the rest of the room: _Connect4_; a chess-set; _Cluedo_ and a very old, very loved _Monopoly_ set, and Lily brought out the _Connect4_.

"Want t-to…p-play?" Ryan glanced at her, and at the board-game, and even though she could tell that he was thinking, '_Am I five?_' he smiled and sat down on the huge bed. Lily smiled and set up the game. When they had finished playing, and the events of the day collapsed on them, they changed into pyjamas, climbed into bed—not bothered about sharing because they had shared a bedroom since Lily was born, remembering sharing a bed when they visited their grandmother in Fresno, and shut the lights off.

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**A.N.**: Please review.


	3. First Glance

**A.N.**: Hi guys. So, I was on Pinterest, and I thought, Hm, I could make a board for this story. So that's what I did. If you go to Pinterest, people-search 'mellowUKgal' and you'll get me; I've created a board called 'Lilium Inter Spinas' for images that inspired this fic.

I realise that not creating this as a new story has prohibited some of your ability to post reviews…so when you're able to (after chapter 21, I think) I expect extremely long messages from all of you!

Thank you to _Soapfan2006_ for already getting back to me about my edit!

The glorious Garrett Cooper is introduced in this chapter. Be prepared to swoon.

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**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_03.1_

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Brilliant sunshine illuminated the white sheers draped along the panoramic windows, and for a minute, when Lily opened her eyes, she couldn't understand whether she was still dreaming or not—she'd had a strange one, chasing Ryan across a bridge to France, after pulling him out of a garbage truck. She didn't understand why she had been chasing Ryan to France—much less that a bridge had actually been built _to _France.

Sitting up, she peered around, and as the brilliant white sofa and its brightly-coloured cushions came into view with her backpack and duffel tucked neatly against the side, and Ryan snuffled in his sleep next to her, the full extent of the previous day's events settled on her, and she remembered where they were: Mr and Mrs Cohen's pool-house. She climbed out of bed, went over to the door of the pool-house, and crept outside.

Her jaw actually dropped in amazement. The bright sunlight almost blinded her, but when her eyes acclimatised, she saw the glittering swimming-pool disappearing over the edge of the Cohens' property, and beyond…nothing but nature. A sandy path wound down a hill just beyond the neighbour's house, trailing amongst hedges and a few slender trees to a private alcove of sand where a tall mast for a little boat glinted in the sunshine. And beyond the sand, the water rippled out, frothing slightly, sapphire-blue and glowing, the sky mirroring it a few shades lighter, but just as flawless. She glanced around; Mr and Mrs Cohen's house, at least the back of it anyway, was made almost entirely of glass, with clean, modern balconies. She guessed that with views like these, a panoramic wall of windows was the best way to showcase the beauty of the coast. The house was even bigger than she had guessed last night, and the garden was just as beautiful as the tropical flowerbeds at the front of the house.

She crept back into the pool-house, trying not to wake Ryan, and grabbed her towel and shampoo and her toothbrush, and crept into the bathroom. It was brand-new and very modern, with simple lines and clean colours, and a little note on the shower unit said it was a 'steam shower.' Whatever that meant. Within two seconds of standing beneath it, Lily realised why the distinction; she had never had a more luxurious or powerful shower. In her _life_. Someone knocked on the door, and Lily, securing a towel around her and wrapping a smaller one around her hair, opened the door a fraction.

"Come on, Lil, you've been in there for ages," Ryan complained.

"This shower is…am-m-m-amazing," Lily gasped. He rolled his eyes and walked away, and Lily slipped out of the bathroom, steam curling around her feet.

She changed into her plain white t-shirt and jeans, tugging on a pair of socks, and laced up her old ten-hole brown-leather _Doc Martens_, which she always wore to work at the florist and the movie-theatre, and at the diner. She found a hair-dryer in the dresser and was blowing out her hair in the little mirror on the dresser when Ryan came out of the shower. By the time Ryan had dressed, in his jeans and a wife-beater, Lily was wondering whether Mr and Mrs Cohen were the types to wait on their guests, no matter who they were, or whether there was a help-yourself code to getting breakfast. Ryan hadn't seen the view yet, and he crept out of the pool-house still half-asleep; Lily followed, re-enjoying the view and the beauty of the garden and the house.

They meandered to a set of French doors almost invisible in the wall of glass; inside was what Lily assumed was a 'den'; the furniture, although still simple and clean, wasn't the white of the formal sitting-room, and there were copious amounts of blankets, cushions, footstools, and a coffee-table loaded with books on art, photographs, and more board-games, rather than valuable art-glass.

The sounds of a video-game echoed in the room, and sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by boxes of cereal, cartons of orange juice and milk and the newspaper, was a teenager with very dark, curly hair; he was skinny but probably tall when standing, and he had an appealing face and intelligent eyes. He paused the game as he glanced up, his eyes sliding from Ryan to Lily and back, and he licked his lips nervously.

"Hi," he said softly, glancing at them. Lily waved shyly. She hadn't looked at the photographs in the little house, but she should have guessed Mr and Mrs Cohen would have kids, or _a_ kid; he looked to be about the same age as them, but why he had an unfinished game of _Jenga_ toppling on the coffee-table, and why he was playing fantasy video-games, Lily didn't know.

She didn't know much about boys and video-games, mostly because her brothers had never had a games console, but she guessed all boys, no matter their age, liked playing on _PlayStations_ and _Xboxes_. One of her friends was lucky enough to have a _Wii_, and jumping the hurdles on the monkey-game had had everyone in hysterics. That was a long time ago, though; Lily hadn't seen that friend in ages.

"Hey," Ryan said warily. Like Lily, Ryan was wary around strangers—but Lily thought Ryan had a better chance of snapping this boy's spine in two than the kid had of hurting Ryan. And Ryan had never won a fight.

The boy glanced at them, and at the television, and back at them. "Do you wanna play?"

Lily had never played on a _PlayStation_ before. 'Mario-Kart' on the _Wii_ was the most complex game she had ever played on, but she climbed down onto the floor beside the boy, while Ryan took his other side, and the boy brought out extra controllers for them. Lily saw that, beneath the flat-screen high-definition television, the low white unit contained an _Xbox_, a _Wii_, and a _PlayStation_, with drawers beneath filled with games for each game-console. Towers either side of the console were filled with DVDs, and there were even a few VHS cassette-tapes neatly arranged.

Seth, the same age as Ryan, was playing some kind of ninja game, with katana swords, nunchunks and bare-knuckle combat. He adjusted the game to multi-player, and Lily had to stick her tongue out in concentration as she frowned at the screen, trying to remember which buttons Seth said did what.

Seth was funny, and sweet. He talked very fast and laughed like a squirrel, and he was kind of…kind of childlike, in his innocence and the way he just rattled things off without really thinking them over, and by the end of the first five minutes with him, Lily was smiling, and laughing quietly at him when Seth said "waves up!" about his dad's surfing hobby, instead of "surf's up!" There was something so sweet and endearing about him, despite his sarcasm and dark wit, perhaps because he seemed so sheltered. He still ate dinosaur cereal—and _Cap'n Crunch_ and _Lucky Charms_—and spoke even quicker than usual when he had a cup of strong coffee.

"Looks like somebody tried to be a hero, but he got a little cocky!" Seth said, his fingers clicking away madly at his controller as she and Ryan tried their best to keep up. "X-O-X-O; it's an unbeatable combination! Oh, _oh_, OH!" He destroyed Ryan, and Lily ran away onscreen, trying to find someplace to recuperate before tackling Seth's nunchunk-wielding character.

"What happened to your head, dude? Where did it go?" Seth asked, glancing at Ryan. "I'm sorry! Did someone die?" Ryan nodded, his spoon sticking out of his mouth, and Lily smiled, changing her weapon to the katana, which she had learned in the previous round was her weapon of choice. It was oddly cathartic to hack up people in a digital world, considering her aversion to violence in this one.

"Oh, hey, do you wanna play _Grand Theft Auto_? It's pretty cool; you can steal cars and stuff," Seth said, and then he seemed to realise what he had said, and caught himself. "Not that that's cool. Or uncool, I don't know—"

"I see you three have met," a voice said, and Mr Cohen appeared, carrying a bag of groceries. Last night, Mr Cohen had been wearing an expensive, tailored suit and a very nice tie; he'd looked like a lawyer, looked like he owned the house in which they now sat, hacking at each other with katana swords. Today, he wore board-shorts and a 'surf shack' t-shirt, with a pair of flip-flops and expensive sunglasses. "Seth, what're you doing inside on this beautiful day? Why don't you show Ryan and Lillian around?"

"Okay, because it's so great around here, Dad; there's so much to do," Seth said sardonically. Seth glanced at Ryan, and Lily. "I don't know; what do you guys wanna do?"

"What do you guys do around here?" Ryan asked. Lily could tell the local diner and movie-theatre probably weren't the favourite hangout spots, not when the beach was a walk away and everyone seemed to have swimming-pools in their backyards. They had seen little yachts sail down the coast past the little lagoon while they had been playing _PlayStation_, and Seth had said his dad had probably gone to catch the five-footers in his favourite surf spot, so Lily assumed water-sports were all the rage around Newport Beach. Seth smiled after a minute, and while Lily tried to up her skill-levels on the ninja game, Seth ran upstairs to put on some board-shorts and a striped shirt.

"You guys know how to swim, don't you?" Seth asked, and Ryan caught Lily's eye. Ryan didn't really like the water—but whenever Lily had the time and inclination to go swimming, she could have spent hours in the water. Family vacations at the beach were her favourites, and she had gained a lifeguarding license so she could work at the local pool during the summer. Ryan always said the pool only got the number of people it did because they were mostly teenaged boys, and she was extremely pretty.

"Er…why?" Ryan asked warily. Seth smiled.

"I'm gonna take you out on my boat," he said eagerly. Lily raised her eyebrows; he had his own boat? She glanced at Ryan. He didn't really like boats. The dislike of water made him susceptible to a fear of floating objects—and watching _Titanic_ with Theresa had made him all the warier of objects that could sink in water when things went wrong, like boats.

Ryan didn't mention his dislike of boats; in fact, he didn't say much of anything, but Seth seemed quite happy to chatter on for the both of them, and while Lily wondered aloud what kind of boat Seth had, he filled her in on all the technical details of his beloved little catamaran, the _Summer_ _Breeze_, which his nautiphile grandfather had taught him how to sail when he was just a kid.

"Have you ever been sailing?" Seth asked, glancing at both of them. Lily shook her head; so did Ryan. "I can teach you, if you want. It's cool, the best sport there is."

"I s-s-suppose you actually…have t-t-to know…what y-y-you're—d-doing t-to be a sailor," Lily said softly. "Otherwise, you m-might d-die…I expect."

"Yeah, exactly," Seth grinned. "It's a dying art-form, though, sailing."

"You're int-inter-interested int…in it," Lily pointed out; Seth led them out the front of the house, and down past Marissa's house, to the entrance to the little sandy path to the beach, which was private, and stretched further beyond the cliff than Lily had realised; several boats were beached on the sand, their masts bare.

The _Summer Breeze_ was a little Hobie Cat catamaran with a blue floor kind of like a trampoline; the boat was largish, Lily supposed, big enough for the three of them to sit comfortably on it, and still allowing Seth room to manoeuvre with the rudder, sails, boom and ropes. It all looked kind of complicated, but Seth assured her sailing was actually very simple once you got the hang of it, except in storm conditions, at which time she wouldn't be on the water anyway, especially not in his little catamaran.

It was beautiful, out on the waves. When the shoreline receded, she could make believe they were deep into the ocean, just the three of them. The idea of using a boat to escape sounded like fun, and if the sea was always as calm and beautiful as it was today, with a helpful breeze to fill Seth's multicoloured sails, she couldn't imagine a better way to run away. Seth worked at the ropes and tugged them in place with his teeth, hand in the rudder guiding them for about an hour or two, before he let the sails slack, and they drifted he shared out the contents of a little bag; raspberry-and-cranberry juice, _Goldfish_ and organic raspberry fruit leathers, which Lily had never had before, but really liked.

"I have this plan, well, I don't know what you'd think of it, but…next July the trade-winds shift west and I want to sail to Tahiti," Seth said, tucking the wrappers in the little bag for safekeeping until they hit shore again. Seth smiled, as if already anticipating his trip, and Lily couldn't help wonder…sailing all the way to Tahiti? The furthest from home she had ever been was Reno, and that was for her mom's card-counting ventures. "I can do it in forty-four days, maybe even forty-two."

"Wow," Ryan said, looking mildly impressed. "That—that sounds really cool, man."

"Yeah," Seth smiled to himself. "You just hit the high seas, and catch fish, right off the side of the boat—grill 'em right there." Seth sounded so dreamy and romantic, his excitement subtle and simmering under the surface.

"Th-that s-s-sounds am-m-m-amazing," Lily said. "Like _The B-blue Lagoon-n-n_."

Seth smiled at her. "You like that movie?"

"She loves that movie," Ryan said, his voice heavy with amusement, and Seth grinned.

"If you're looking f-f-for someone t-t-to go with you…I'll g-go t-to T-t-Tahiti," Lily offered, and Seth smiled.

"Actually, I'll have Summer with me," he said.

"You're gonna take this little catamaran to Tahiti?" Ryan said disbelievingly.

"Uh, _no_," Seth said slowly, scratching his jaw and looking embarrassed. "It's actually the girl the boat's named after."

"That's v-very sweet," Lily said, smiling softly. Seth…he seemed like a dreamer, a wistful kid stuck in the wrong era. For all his smart-talking, video-game-playing ways, he listened to vintage punk and knew how to sail. It was a strange and endearing combination of hobbies. Lily could honestly say she'd never met anyone quite like him. "She must…r-r-really love you."

"Yeah. She has no idea," Seth said laughingly, but his cheeks were flushed. "I've never talked to her before." Lily caught Ryan's eye, and they both thought the same thing; _He's named a boat after a girl he's never even met properly?_ He _was_ a dreamer, like Lily had suspected. Wishful thinking on his part was very sweet, and naming his boat after his beloved was very romantic, if unrequited.

"How are you going to get her on your boat if you haven't talked to her?" Ryan asked, and Lily watched Seth, amused to hear his plan. With all the movies in his family's den, she was sure he had to have taken notes on every romantic thing he could do to get a girl to go to Tahiti with him on a long and romantic sailing trip. Just them and the ocean, the waves lulling them to sleep every night, eating fresh fish every day…it sounded like Lily's idea of heaven. She _loved_ the movie called _The Blue Lagoon_—the 1980 Brooke Shields classic. Just two young teenagers stranded on an exotic island, living off fresh exotic fruit, fresh fish and spring water, spending their days diving for pearls, and swimming. No outside world, no unkindness, just the two of them in their little home—Lily's vision of what the afterlife looked like.

"I don't know yet," Seth smiled winsomely. Lily nodded and gazed away over the ocean. With the sun glittering on it, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Chino was _not_ like this; no part of it even came close to Newport Beach.

When the wind picked up, and they'd finished their snacks, Seth tightened the sails and let Lily have a go at the rudder, letting her set the course, guiding them back to the beach. Seth and Ryan hopped out of the boat when they touched the ground, and Lily moved the rudder out of harm's way as the boys dragged the catamaran further up onto the sand, safe from the tide. As Seth brought the sails down and unclipped them—and did a lot of technical stuff Lily didn't know about—she caught sight of Mr Cohen walking down the path, smiling.

"Hi kids!" he called. "So, I thought we'd head over to the fashion-show at about seven."

"Yeah, have fun," Seth said, barely looking up at his father.

"Come on; it's a whole new school year, Seth," Mr Cohen said encouragingly.

"It's also the same kids, Dad," Seth replied, and from his tone Lily could tell he didn't like his schoolmates. "Why do they even _need_ a fashion-show? Every day's a fashion-show for these people."

"Well, Ryan and Lily have to go," Mr Cohen said. "Marissa invited them." That made Seth glance up; he stared at Ryan and Lily, his eyebrows raised.

"Marissa invited you?" he asked incredulously. "I've lived next-door to Marissa for, like, _ever_; her dad almost got married to my mom, even, and she's never even invited me to a birthday."

"That is not true," Mr Cohen said vehemently. "They did not almost get married." Lily smiled, noting that Mr Cohen didn't deny Seth had never been invited to a birthday-party of Marissa's. "Hey, you know, Garrett's home from Mexico. You can hang out with him at the party, introduce Ryan and Lily." Seth sighed heavily, looking almost petulant.

"Maybe Summer will be there," Ryan remarked quietly, and Lily glanced at her brother. He wasn't usually one to encourage people to do things they wouldn't normally; so why was he pushing Seth to join his family at a fashion-show? It was _not_ very Ryan at all. Lily glanced at him, and smiled in understanding. He must _really_ like the look of that Marissa girl.

"That's interesting," Seth said thoughtfully. "She is Marissa's best-friend." He glanced up at his dad. "Seven?" Mr Cohen looked mildly affronted at his son's abrupt change of heart, but took it in his stride.

"Seven," he nodded.

"Seven!" Seth started back up the lane toward the cul-de-sac, and Mr Cohen smiled at Lily.

"How'd you like sailing?" he asked. Lily licked her lips and swallowed nervously.

"I l-l-liked it-t a l-lot," Lily said, glancing at Mr Cohen. "Seth l-let m-m-me have a g-go withthe—with…the rudder and sails. He t-t-told us about his t-trip to T-t-Tahiti."

"He did, huh?" Mr Cohen smiled. "What do you think?"

"I th-think if h-he winds up g-g-getting shipwrecked in-n t-the South P-p-Pacific, it'd b-be l-like m-my favourite m-movie," Lily said, glancing at Mr Cohen. "_The B-blue Lagoon_." Mr Cohen raised a hand to his heart.

"Brooke Shields. My fantasy girlfriend," he moaned softly, and Lily beamed, laughing softly. "Don't tell Kirsten I said that; she's still annoyed that I want to run away with Adele."

"Wh-who wouldn't?" Lily said, smiling softly; she loved Adele; her two albums comprised the majority of her musical collection. Mr Cohen chuckled.

"So, when we get up to the house, Kirsten is gonna sort you out an outfit to wear tonight," he said jovially.

"Oh…she d-d-doesn't have t-to," Lily said, feeling her cheeks flush. She wasn't used to people—like Mr Cohen and Seth—going out of their way to take care of her, but Mr Cohen chuckled.

"Are you kidding? She's been in her closet all morning trying to decide what you'd look best in," Mr Cohen chuckled, grinning. "I think she's excited to play dress-up with you." Lily smiled shyly and followed the boys up the lane. As they reached the end of the path, an old, sturdy navy-blue 1980s _Chevy_ Silverado truck trundled toward Marissa's house; a glossy red surfboard gleamed blindingly in the sunshine in the bed, a sandy, battered Igloo icebox bound with guy-ropes next to it. The truck looked completely out of place amongst the beautiful, sleek cars parked on the driveways of the houses surrounding Mr and Mrs Cohen's beautiful home, every one of them being a Mercedes, a BMW or another car equally as expensive and luxurious.

Lily loved the truck; there was a bit of rust by the wheels, and some of the paint was a little faded; the truck made a deep rumbling growl that was pleasant to hear, and she was reminded of her dad, inexplicably, the sound and the truck sending her back to her very earliest memories of watching her daddy work on his truck, teaching Trey and Ryan about engines while the radio played _Journey_. The truck pulled to a stop on the curb, instead of pulling into Marissa's driveway. The driver's door swung open, and an incredibly tall, absolutely astoundingly handsome boy unfolded out of the truck cab.

He was the most beautiful man Lily had ever seen. Stunningly handsome; he was marvellously tall, with artfully-tousled hair the colour of Demerara sugar, achingly beautiful lips and brilliant sapphire eyes that blazed, shaded with short, thick lashes that sent shadows on his high cheekbones, oddly the feature Lily most loved about him was his nose, straight and smooth. His face was oval, with a sculpted jaw and very high cheekbones. He had _gorgeous_ broad shoulders, and his chest was broad and probably toned, like his arms. He was tanned and athletic-looking. He was… Wow.

"Hey!" Seth grinned, sidling up to the taller, more handsome boy and offering his hand for a fist-bump. "My neighbour! Epitome of handsome, what's going on?"

"Hey, Seth," the boy grinned, his voice the deepest Lily had ever heard on a boy his age—on anyone, really; she loved it instantly—bumping fists idly with Seth. "Not much. You?"

"I'm good, I'm good; hey, um, meet my new friends," Seth said, grinning from ear to ear. Lily couldn't help staring, trying not to stare as she did so, at the tall boy. That voice, those _eyes_, his sweet nose and those lips and _biceps_, the way his t-shirt hung lopsidedly on his gorgeous straight, wide shoulders, revealing one perfectly tanned collar-bone, and a slight curl of dark blonde hair tickling the nape of his neck. Lily had never had time for boys; mostly because at her school they were all in some way like her brothers, scratching through adolescence with little hope and no prospects, and she had never really taken to liking the look of anybody. But this boy…

_Paging thunder-bolt city_, she thought, stunned, still trying not to look like she was staring. She could gaze at this boy forever. For a moment, he glanced at her, and they held eye-contact. His eyes were the impossible blue of the perfect Aegean Sea, the kind of blue someone would dive into off the white cliffs of Santorini into. Naked. Swallowing nervously, she couldn't have looked away if someone had threatened her life.

"Garrett Cooper, this is Ryan Atwood," Seth grinned easily, indicating Ryan, and Ryan gave Garrett the 'guy nod' as the boys shook hands. "And this is his sister Lily. Garrett lives next-door. Apparently you met his sister last night."

"Hey," Garrett grinned casually, offering his hand. Nervously, Lily took it, unable to break eye-contact with those beautiful sapphire eyes of his, and his warm, slightly calloused fingers gripped her slender ones, enveloping her hand and warming her whole body, sending shivers up her arm. "It's very nice to meet you."

She begged not to embarrass herself in front of this handsome boy. Never having really spoken to strangers, especially boy ones, she had only ever received taunting and degradation for her severe speech impediment when she'd attempted it in the past, which had given her an aversion to speaking at all. She swallowed nervously and focused on his face, mustering the power to have control over her vocal chords.

"You too," Lily finally said, gazing up at him. Tall herself, Lily knew Garrett must be well over six foot tall, because he was strikingly taller than Seth, who was taller than both Mr Cohen and Ryan. And it was lovely to gaze up into Garrett's smouldering sapphire-blue eyes; accustomed to gauging people by the expression in their eyes, Garrett's were warm, _mellow_, and he had fine laughter-lines at the corners of his eyes. She liked his nose, his lips, even his eyebrows were finely shaped. But it was those eyes… He released her hand, and she regretted the disappearance of the warmth that had seared her skin.

"Ryan and Lily are staying with us," Seth said, grinning excitedly. "Marissa apparently invited them to the fundraiser tonight—which means I have to go, which means _you_ have to go so I'll have someone to sit with and quietly mock people."

"Isn't that what Ryan and Lily are for?" Garrett smiled warmly, his lips twitching with an amused smirk. Lily noticed a tiny mark in his right cheek, where he'd had chickenpox. She had the same tiny scar on her right inner-wrist.

"They don't know the good stuff," Seth remarked. "And I've gotta catch you up; six weeks is a long time, you've missed a lot of the good dirt."

"Ah," Garrett grinned. "Well, I guess I'll have to put in an appearance."

"Guess so," Seth grinned. "And, you know, Dad's gonna want to interrogate you about Mexico for, like, _hours_, you know—" he broke off to turn and grin at Lily and Ryan "—Garrett was in an international surf-competition down there!"

"Did y-you—win anything?" Lily asked interestedly. Garrett shrugged embarrassedly, shielding his eyes as he glanced at her.

"Yeah, he won," Seth said for him. "Won twelve-thousand dollars, _and _a shiny trophy and a new surfboard."

"I n-need to g-get into surfing," Lily declared. Twelve-thousand dollars for winning one competition? That would keep them in rent for months. And she wouldn't even have to talk to anyone; just get in the ocean and surf.

"Yeah, we could get you surfing and sailing and get you some cash," Seth said, grinning in the sun.

"You like surfing?" Garrett asked her, and Lily felt her cheeks warming.

"I like to s-swim," she said, her cheeks burning. "I've never…been—on a…surf b-board." Garrett smiled shyly at her, flashing a gorgeous white smile at her.

"You spend most of the first few lessons in the water anyway," Seth said, apparently from experience. "Isn't that right, Dad?"

"True as anything," Mr Cohen grinned, reaching to Garrett for a hug, which the taller, blonde boy went into willingly, grinning and clapping a hand on Mr Cohen's back before Mr Cohen released him. "How are you, Garrett?"

"I'm great."

"You look tan; you look great," Mr Cohen said happily, clapping a hand on Garrett's shoulder. "How was Mexico?"

"Aside from the surf and tequila, you mean?" Garrett asked, and Mr Cohen chuckled.

"Yeah; the girls treat you right? Did you get up to anything educational?" Mr Cohen asked, smirking as if he already knew the answer.

"Well, my Spanish is a whole lot better," Garrett said, smiling broadly, though he looked almost embarrassed that Mr Cohen had brought up girls. "Which is what I wanted."

"Did you stay with your exchange family?" Mr Cohen asked, and Lily glanced at Garrett, wondering what Mr Cohen meant.

"No; I rented this little shack right on the beach for eight dollars a day," Garrett said. "But I visited. Esmeralda gave me all her family's favourite recipes."

"Great; you can come over and cook for us, then," Seth said, and Lily smiled as Garrett chuckled deeply.

"Didn't say I could make any of them," he chuckled, and Seth shrugged.

"So you're not working tonight?" Seth asked.

"I don't start back up 'til Monday," Garrett said. He glanced shyly at Lily. "If you wanna learn how to surf, I teach lessons…" Lily smiled shyly. The likelihood of remaining in Newport Beach past the weekend was highly unlikely. The Cohen family were their best to make Lily and Ryan feel welcome in their home, but Lily knew better than to think it was anything more than temporary.

She and Ryan didn't have the luxury of even harbouring thoughts of being able to stick around, as much as they might wish to live in a place like this; the reality of their life was grim. They were homeless, without family besides each other, and with only a little over fifteen-hundred dollars to her name and no high-school diploma, the most Lily could hope for was to get her GED, start work, and hope that hard-work and patience paid off down the road.

"Thanks," she said quietly. She glanced up at Garrett, and noticed he was staring at her, and licked her lips nervously and glanced at Ryan, who was watching Garrett from the corner of his eye. That was Ryan's way. He was…overprotective, but Lily was his baby-sister, and he had always been her protector, from Trey, Dawn's boyfriends, their _dad_.

"Hey, I think your mom's gonna start getting anxious to get us ready for this party," Mr Cohen said, checking his watch. "God knows what goes on in that bathroom while she's getting ready, but I tell you, Kirsten could make an Olympic event out of getting dressed up for parties." Garrett chuckled, and Lily smiled; she hadn't had much reason to smile in a very long time, but she liked Mr Cohen's laidback attitude, had found Seth's witty, mile-a-minute banter amusing, and this Garrett boy…she could gaze at him all day.

"I'd better go put on my face," Seth remarked. "Oh, hey, dude, you'd better show, alright. Six weeks, you left me without my wingman. Six weeks, dude."

"I'm sorry," Garrett grinned, looking a little contrite. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Use of your employee discount at _Empire_?" Seth asked, grinning pleadingly as he held his hands clasped before his heart as if in supplication.

"Make me a list; I'll see what I can do," Garrett chuckled warmly, and Seth raised his fists in the air victoriously. "I'd better go; I promised Kaitlin I'd watch TV with her. I'll see you later."

"Bye!" Mr Cohen called, and Seth waved; Lily watched Garrett retreat down the driveway, his dark-navy board-shorts swishing appealingly over his bottom. From the back, he had the most gorgeous broad shoulders she had ever seen. She watched after him, and tingles spread through her body when he glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes on her, noticing that she was still staring after him. He flashed a sly grin at her, still smiling when he looked away, and Lily found herself smiling too, even though her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

"Easy on the eyes, isn't he," Mr Cohen said quietly, amusement dripping from his voice. Lily flushed and glanced at Mr Cohen, who was grinning. Following the boys into the house, Mrs Cohen's voice filtered through the still, air-conditioned air; wearing an orange and white shift dress decorated with diaphanous white floral appliqués with very pretty turquoise jewellery, Mrs Cohen was pacing the formal sitting-room, on the cordless home-phone. Expensive-looking boutique shopping-bags were toppled around her feet and on the sofas.

"Hey, guys," Mrs Cohen smiled, making a comment on the phone before hanging up and smiling.

"Big shopping day?" Seth asked, and Mrs Cohen said goodbye and hung up the phone.

"I had a lot on my mind," Mrs Cohen said, smiling.

"Right," Seth remarked. "Well, I'd better go get ready."

"What?" Mrs Cohen giggled softly, her smile sparkling.

"Seth has decided to grace us with his presence at the fashion-show tonight," Mr Cohen said, and Mrs Cohen raised her fair blonde eyebrows.

"He _has_?" Mrs Cohen said, looking mildly incredulous.

"Hey, be any more surprised, I might get offended," Seth said, examining the contents of a few of Mrs Cohen's shopping-bags. "Ryan and Lily are coming, too."

"Yes—speaking of that; Lily, why don't you come with me, I've got a few options for you to wear tonight," Mrs Cohen said, smiling subtly at her. "I picked up a few things when I was out." Lily glanced at the shopping-bags; _Chanel_, _Saks_ and _Bloomingdales_ were but a few of the names printed on the expensive-looking bags, each tied with a little ribbon at the top, with braided handles.

"You d-didn't—_have_ to d-do…that," Lily said, her cheeks flushing again, feeling warm.

"Are you kidding? Mom's always wanted a daughter she can play dress-up with," Seth remarked. "I stopped letting her dress me when I was five."

"Yeah, we should bring out the old photo-albums of you in dresses," Mr Cohen said, and Seth gave him a deadpan look, as Ryan smiled subtly and Lily chuckled.

"Come on," Mrs Cohen smiled, and Lily tentatively followed; she picked up a few of the shopping-bags, and Mrs Cohen smiled at her when she did a double-take, realising her things had already been picked up for her.

* * *

**A.N.**: Soapy, the next chapter is for you, I know you love Kirsten/Lily bonding!


	4. Mrs Cohen

**A.N.**: Bonding between Lily and Kirsten; this version is longer than the previous one, I guess I had time to think what else I wanted to write, maybe let Kirsten get a sense of who Lily is, because Sandy doesn't actually meet her in jail or anything, just on the side of the road with Ryan. You know, like one of those abandoned puppies on the side of the highway that you might one day have to put down?

* * *

**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_03.2_

* * *

Mr and Mrs Cohen's bedroom was secluded from the rest of the house, completely opposite to the pool-house in relation to the plot of the estate, and required several steps up to it; like the living-room, den and pool-house, the bedroom was furnished in the same simple, modern yet formal way, with plain furniture and extra attention to details, upholstery, decorations and artwork. The views from the windows, which were, like the pool-house, draped with diaphanous white sheers, looked out onto the ocean, flawless.

"So I don't know what exactly your style is, but I found a beautiful black cocktail-dress that I thought you might like," Mrs Cohen said, frowning thoughtfully at several of the shopping-bags before plucking a few specific ones from the bed, placing them on the upholstered chaise at the end of the bed.

"You d-didn't—have t-to…spend—all this m-m-money o-on m-me," Lily stammered, eyeing some of the bags, and the designer names she recognised from reading old _Vogue _magazines.

"It was my pleasure," Mrs Cohen said, straightening out several of the bags and plucking things from within them, turning to smile at Lily. "Do you know the last time I had an excuse to go into the girls' section at Saks?" Mrs Cohen laughed softly. Glancing at the expensive boutique bags, Lily licked her lips nervously.

"Ssss…so Mr C-c-Cohen says…you're th-the—big earner in the family," she said curiously, glancing at Mrs Cohen. "What d-do you d-do?"

"I'm head of residential development at the Newport Group," Mrs Cohen smiled. Lily stared at her, eyes wide.

"W-w-weally?" she asked, cringing over her rolling Rs.

"You know it?" Mrs Cohen said, looking surprised.

"Ryan worked…con-constwuction last…summer," Lily struggled. "He w-w-worked on some of the p-p-p…_projects _in Chino. Sssso you…h-have t-to be in ch-charge of p-p-planning and zoning, con-construction, d-deal with the architects?"

"Uh-huh," Mrs Cohen nodded, looking slightly amazed.

"Ryan wanted t-to be an-n-n architect," Lily said quietly, glancing at Mrs Cohen as she took things out of bags, putting some in her tall dresser, setting others on the dressing-table. "H-h-how d-do you become head of r-r-wesidential d-development?"

"Well, my father owns the company, so that helps," Mrs Cohen beamed, and Lily stared. "But I had to work my way up, after I graduated from college."

"H-h-how long have you…worked f-for the N-n-Newport Gwoup?" Lily asked, flushing.

"Oh… Fourteen years?" Mrs Cohen said, glancing up at the high ceiling thoughtfully. "Seth was only a baby when we moved here."

"Where did you g-go t-to college?" Lily asked curiously. She wanted to go to college, had been working _very_ hard to save money and make sure her grades and extra-curricular activities were top-notch to attract academic scholarships.

"UC Berkeley," Mrs Cohen beamed.

"I've never b-b-been…there. Is it nice there?" Lily asked.

"I loved it," Mrs Cohen smiled reminiscently, peering at the label on a large cardboard bag tied with a cotton bow; the bag read _J Crew_, and she smiled as she brought out three slender shoe-boxes, the kind that flat sandals would be put in if they were sold at an expensive store.

"Is it where you…m-m-met Mr C-c-Cohen?" Lily asked, glancing at Mrs Cohen.

"It is," Mrs Cohen beamed. "Freshman orientation, he was heading an election campaign on campus. He's a Democrat; I'm a Republican."

"I…h-h-hope Mr…Cohen's n-not in—trouble for b-b-bringing us home," Lily said bashfully, glancing at Mrs Cohen, who gave her a measuring look before smiling, chuckling softly as she shook her head.

"No," she smiled. "This is just the sort of thing he'd do to keep me on my toes." Lily nodded; she didn't want Mr Cohen to be in the dog-house for doing a good turn by them.

"What d-did you d-do at Berkeley?" she asked curiously. She knew she wanted to go to college, but didn't know where she wanted to go or what she would do if she ever got there.

"I majored in Art History," Mrs Cohen said fondly, sighing softly as she frowned at a bundle of what looked like black lace before tossing it on the duck-egg blue silk comforter. "Actually, I wanted to open my own gallery in Sausalito."

"Is all the…artwork yours?" Lily asked, remembering all of the different artists featured downstairs. Mrs Cohen nodded, smiling. "You're a…f-f-fan of M-m-Marilyn M-Minter?"

"You know her work?" Mrs Cohen asked, smiling.

"The process she uses is f-f-fascinating," Lily said, and she glanced shyly at the painting draped above the huge bed. "Is th-that a Cecily B-Brown? And the J-j-Jessica Craig-Martin in the hall d-downstairs?"

"Good eye," Mrs Cohen blurted, eyes wide with delighted incredulity. "You like art?"

"I'd…l-like it m-more if I had the t-time t-to enjoy it," Lily admitted softly.

"Don't you?" Mrs Cohen asked.

"I work a lot," Lily sighed.

"You have a job?" Mrs Cohen asked, looking mildly impressed.

"I have lots," Lily said, fiddling with the braided strap of a _Sephora_ bag. It wasn't unusual in their neighbourhood for kids to get part-time jobs to either earn their own wage to spend on whatever they wished, or to help out their struggling parents, but even she knew it was unusual for her to have three fulltime jobs.

"Where?" Mrs Cohen asked curiously. Glancing at her, Lily licked her lips shyly.

"I d-do the morning shift at a d-diner, and…then a f-full day at a florists'…and th-then I rip tickets and…sell…c-c-concessions at th-the movie theatre," she said, struggling not to let her words be too shrouded by her stammer. "S-s-sometimes I lifeguard at the c-c-community p-p-pool."

"Do you do that every day?" Mrs Cohen asked, wide-eyed.

"We need the money," Lily said simply, gazing down at the floral embroidery on the comforter.

"Why's that?" Mrs Cohen asked gently.

"D-d-Dawn can't…hold a j-job," Lily said with difficulty, after a moment.

"And Dawn is your mother?" Lily nodded. "So you take care of your family?" Lily nodded again. Mrs Cohen sighed. "Well, I tell you what, why don't you go and have a shower, and then I can do your hair and makeup. Wrap yourself up in this when you get out." She handed Lily a brand-new silk robe, from a large _Victoria's Secret_ bag; it was a warm, dusty rose colour, very pretty and ending at mid-thigh, and Mrs Cohen snapped the tag off with a sharp flick of her wrist, smiling at Lily as she handed it over.

"You d-d-didn't…b-buy th-this for…m-m-me?" Lily asked, flushing warmly. Mrs Cohen gave her a very kind smile.

"Like Seth said, I don't have any daughters; I haven't had the opportunity to treat anyone since my little sister left high-school," she smiled. "That's about the last time I had the chance to go into _Sephora_ and _Abercrombie_. Seth pouts if I make him even wait outside _Victoria's_ _Secret_!"

Lily glanced down at the silky robe in her hands. "I liked working there…"

"You did?" Mrs Cohen asked curiously. Lily nodded.

"At Christmas, th-they n-needed extra staff," Lily said, glancing up at Mrs Cohen. "Th-they paid well, and th-the s-s-staff d-discount was good."

"Oh, speaking of, I found the _cutest_ lingerie in _Abercrombie_," Mrs Cohen exclaimed, eyes flashing wide with delight. She dived for a matte Abercrombie bag with cotton handles and a photograph of a sultrily handsome boy with chiselled abs, and brought out handfuls of bras and panties. She picked out a particular bra, black lace and bandeau in style, no wire, but a tiny little bow between the breasts. She plucked out a matching set of black lace bikini panties. "They're stocking this designer, Gilly Hicks. I thought they would go well under your dress." Lily took the proffered bandeau bra; she had never worn strapless, lace or bandeau, but the lace was very soft, and flipping it over, she examined the tiny, silky label.

"H-h-how did you know my size?" she asked, glancing at Mrs Cohen, who looked briefly uncomfortable.

"I, uh…took a sneaky look in your overnight bag," she admitted, and Lily nodded; she probably would have done the same, just in case. "You and Ryan packed in a hurry?"

"I was always…r-r-ready to leave," Lily said, glancing at Mrs Cohen, before looking back down at the bra, which was little more than a strip of black lace with a two-prong clasp, very soft and pretty, and she liked it. "I d-don't…have much op-op-opportunity to…b-buy—nice things." Mrs Cohen nodded, though Lily barely caught it because she was still looking down at the bandeau bra Mrs Cohen had bought for her. The last time she had bought anything new for herself must have been months ago, she couldn't even remember. She had a habit of saving her money, only buying essentials like underwear, letting her t-shirts get to the baby-soft threadbare state they were now in, not replacing her shoes because they were broken in for spending all day on her feet.

She shuffled into Mrs Cohen's luxurious en-suite bathroom, showering and washing her hair with the fragrant shampoo and conditioner, towelling herself off and wrapping her hair, and she carefully took the tags off the lace bandeau bra and the matching bikini panties, pulling them on. She had never worn lace, or a bandeau; but the bra was the most comfortable she had ever worn, and the panties were lovely and soft. Somehow she felt more comfortable and confident with the lace bandeau bra than the plain t-shirt ones she had worn previously, the ones Mrs Diaz had taken her to buy. She had only bought a few things with her discount at _Victoria's Secret_ over Christmas, new pyjamas, a few panties, maybe a bra. But this bandeau bra was no-fuss, and she tugged the silky robe on, belting it with the sash at her waist, and tentatively entered the bedroom. Mrs Cohen was going through the contents of her shopping-bags, the ones with designer labels, while several more had been added to the selection on the chaise at the end of the bed. Dresser-drawers stood open, and a _Sephora_ bag had made its way to the dressing-table.

"Hey," Mrs Cohen smiled, when Lily reappeared. "That was fast." Lily hadn't wanted to take too much time, using Mrs Cohen's beautiful bathroom, and she rubbed her ankle with her other foot shyly, the weight of the towel binding her hair heavy on her head. "Do they fit?" Lily nodded, smiling shyly; Mrs Cohen set down a brand-new matte black leather _Chanel_ quilted purse, rearranging several other bags, and dusted her hands as she smiled, gesturing to a black dress draped over the chaise.

"I thought you would look very elegant in this," Mrs Cohen said, smiling tentatively, and Lily gazed at the dress as she picked it up carefully. The dress was a form-fitting strapless black mini-dress, with a diaphanous chiffon overskirt that trailed to the floor, and a sweetheart-neckline. The tag read _Kevork __Kiledjian_, and as soon as Lily had glimpsed the price, she set the dress down carefully, blinking quickly and feeling flushed.

"I… I c-can't wear th-that," she said softly, glancing shyly at Mrs Cohen.

"Why not?" Mrs Cohen exclaimed, wide-eyed. "Is it the wrong size?" Lily shook her head, but Mrs Cohen seemed to catch the look Lily gave the price-tag. She gave Lily a kind smile. "I insist, Lily. Please." She gave Lily another warm smile. "Come on, let's get that heavy towel off your head. I should have picked you up a hair-wrap." She sighed, as if a little put-out; glancing at the dress again, Lily let Mrs Cohen guide her to the dressing-table. Bringing out a hair-dryer and a big barrel brush and large-toothed comb, Mrs Cohen carefully combed out Lily's hair, taking care not to snag on any knots, and it was surreal; the only time Lily could remember having her hair combed like this was by her dad, when she was _very_ little. She used to sit on the floor of her and Ryan's room, with her dad's legs either side of her as he sat on her bed, gently combing her hair. She could still remember the faded yellow chevron rug she and Ryan had had on their bedroom floor, the little table in the corner with her dolls' house, the stack of books her dad used to read to her, and Ryan's little box of toy-cars beneath the table, a dinosaur puzzle in a box tucked between the table and the wall, and the three VHS cassette-tapes she, Ryan and Trey had had as children; _The Land Before Time_, _Seven Brides for Seven Brothers_ and _Tarzan_.

It was a long time since Lily had had the time and inclination to think about her dad, their old house in Fresno. She remembered her dad's truck, his tendency to have a packet of beef-jerky in the glove-compartment, the ill-fated road-trip they had taken as a family; sitting in folding chairs in the bed of the truck watching Fourth of July fireworks and feasting on watermelon slices. Memories of particular Christmases, birthdays; and waking up in the mornings with strange women's bicycles sometimes leaning outside their house; going camping and her dad winding them up so much spinning ghost-stories with a deck of cards that he even spooked himself; it was strange after so much time to think about those memories, but considering what came next after her dad had lost his job and held up a liquor store, going away for who knew how long, those memories of her early childhood were her best.

"Here," Mrs Cohen said. "Now, I didn't know what colours you liked, but I picked up a bottle of nail-polish. It's called '_All Tied Up_'. How fun is that?" She dug into the _Sephora_ bag and brought out a bottle of nail-polish, in a dusky pink with subtle shimmer. "Why don't you do your nails while I do your hair?" Lily nodded, smiling shyly, and while Mrs Cohen continued to comb her hair, Lily sat at the dressing-table with the bottle of _Essie _'All Tied Up' polish, carefully painting her nails with a few cotton-balls and a bottle of nail-polish remover at hand.

"Do you colour your hair?" Mrs Cohen asked lightly. Lily shook her head, smiling sadly; she hadn't had time even to paint her nails in months. She kept them neatly filed, rather vain of her hands, which were slender, her fingers long and delicately tapered, her fingernails very prettily-shaped, and once upon a time she had loved getting her nails done. She was quite proud that she'd never coloured her hair; she had rich natural highlights to her blonde hair from lifeguarding, where she had sat outside for eight hours a day in the sun. If Mrs Cohen, who didn't look over forty or old enough to start going grey, coloured her hair, her stylist was very talented in making it look natural.

"So," Mrs Cohen sighed, as she finished combing Lily's hair neatly, "is working so hard the reason you're so thin?" Lily's shoulders sank subtly, but she felt the weight sink far heavier in her insides.

"I didn't r-r-realise I'd—lost so m-much weight," she said quietly, fiddling with the braided handle of the Sephora bag in front of her. She hadn't had much time to sit and reflect, mostly her life the last few months had been about keeping the electricity and hot-water running in their house, making sure there was at least something to eat for dinner, and though she had felt the effects, she hadn't _seen_ how much her three fulltime jobs had been affecting her health. Her lifestyle, working so much, she had dropped a lot of weight in a very short space of time, barely noticing because she'd rarely had the time to stop and think about it; she knew her clothes were even baggier, preferring to wear simple, threadbare t-shirts, tired old jeans and scuffed boots. She was very slim, and last night was the first night in months where she had slept from ten p.m. to eight a.m. and felt refreshed the morning after. "L-l-last night was the—first t-time I've…slept so well in…ages."

"Working three fulltime jobs, I'd imagine you haven't had a full night's sleep in months," Mrs Cohen said sagely. Lily nodded dolefully.

"It k-keeps me out of the…house," she sighed. Deciding to change the subject, not used to talking about her life with anyone, least of all this pulled-together businesswoman, she said, "S-s-so does Seth g-go sailing a lot?"

"All the time, when the weather's so beautiful," Mrs Cohen smiled. "My dad taught him how to sail, when he was a little boy."

"Seth t-told us about Tahiti," Lily said, glancing at Mrs Cohen in the mirror as she plugged in the hair-dryer and picked up the barrel brush. "I'd love to be able t-to do s-s-something like th-that."

"I think he gets it from his father," Mrs Cohen smiled. "Sandy wanted us to drive across the US when we lived in a mail-truck during our Berkeley days." Lily thought about that, for a few minutes while Mrs Cohen blow-dried Lily's hair, using the barrel brush to create loose, casual waves, rubbing a little bit of exotically-scented oil into her hair with a tiny pea of fragrant crème, neither of which Lily recognised the names of or even their purpose, but they smelled nice, and her felt so soft and looked so shiny and pretty when Mrs Cohen had finished, Lily guessed this wasn't the first time she had blow-dried a teenaged girl's hair for a party.

"You l-lived in a mail-truck?" Lily prompted, when Mrs Cohen set down the hair-dryer, and Mrs Cohen chuckled softly, smiling.

"Mm-hmm. I stank of patchouli and was permanently buzzed on tequila and Sandy's special brownies," she said, winking. "Don't tell Seth, though. Sandy got the idea of driving across the US, the pancake-tour of North America."

"Like in…_On th-the Road_?" Lily asked, and Mrs Cohen nodded, smiling. "That s-sounds cool… I'd s-search for the best…pie."

"Would you like to travel?" Mrs Cohen asked, as she emptied the contents of the Sephora bag, taking out tubes of lipstick, pallets of eyeshadow, foil tubes of lotion, a cobalt-glass bottle of rosewater toner, things Lily didn't recognise but was sure Theresa probably would have discovered the proper use for if given the items for experimentation.

"I'd l-love to," Lily said, sighing softly. "The ancient sites in Greece, T-t-Turkey, T-t-Table Mountain in South Africa…C-c-Cambodia and…the G-g-g-Great Barrier Reef, and…the Alhambra…P-p-Palace. I'd like t-to…learn to—c-c-cook in France, and hike thr-through M-m-Monument Valley. And g-g-go t-t-o Yellowstone…I've read of…d-dude r-r-ranches where you c-can…ride h-horses through the…c-c-country. I wouldn't like t-to see a r-r-rodeo, though." She frowned, fiddling with the forks of the comb Mrs Cohen had set down on the dressing-table, and while Mrs Cohen set out brushes, sponges, tubes and pots and bottles, making Lily twist on the dressing-table stool so she could sit in a chair and start applying Lily's makeup, Lily sat silently, thinking about all the things she would loved to have done, had she lived in a house like this, with a job like Mrs Cohen's, with a family like Mr Cohen and Seth.

"Sandy and I took Seth to a bull-fight in Spain a few years ago, not realising it was more like a scene from _Gladiator_," Mrs Cohen said, grimacing, as she applied the rosewater toner to Lily's face, with some _Smashbox_ primer and foundation.

"Th-that's where…it c-c-comes f-from, isn't it?" Lily asked, having watched a late-night show on the _Discovery_ _Channel_ about bull-fighting a long while ago.

"I think so," Mrs Cohen said thoughtfully. "I was mortified. We took Seth to the Alhambra Palace. It was so beautiful."

"I'd like t-to see it. It's wh-where Katherine of Aragon lived…b-before she m-m-married Arthur, P-p-Prince of…Wales," Lily said, and Mrs Cohen smiled, as she held a small card beneath Lily's eye, making her a little skittish, but Mrs Cohen smiled, and said, "It's so the eyeshadow doesn't dust on your cheeks." Lily obliged and closed her eyes gently, so Mrs Cohen could apply a golden-taupe eyeshadow.

Lily had never had this with her mother—this bonding over clothes and the correct application of makeup. Her mother was a train-wreck, with too much blue eyeshadow left over from her youth; and anyway, her alcoholism gave her a trembling hand that would have danced eyeliner halfway across Lily's face. Lily didn't really wear makeup; it made her feel tired to wear mascara and heavy foundation; Mrs Cohen used incredibly expensive cosmetics from famous fashion-houses and something called _Smashbox_.

Mrs Cohen gradually started smiling more warmly as she went through her drawers and cubbies of makeup, selecting nude, golden brown eye-shadows and dusty rose blush and lipstick, her hand steady as she applied subtle golden-taupe eyeshadow to Lily's eyelids, to continue the flawless, subtly golden theme of Lily's makeup.

"You like history?" Mrs Cohen asked lightly.

"I like school," Lily said, her eyes still closed. "I'm th-the only one in m-my family who does."

"Even Ryan?" Mrs Cohen asked.

"Ryan…l-l-lets…Trey g-get into his head t-too much," Lily sighed.

"Is Trey your brother?" Lily caught herself before nodding, and said, "Yes," softly.

"Ryan would n-never s-s-steal a c-car on his own," she said quietly. "In-n-n our n-neighbourhood, we're the g-good ones. Were."

"Why did your mother kick you out of the house?" Mrs Cohen asked quietly, but there was almost a tearful undercurrent to her words.

"D-didn't," Lily said, licking her lips. "I s-s-stay with—Ryan." After a moment, when Mrs Cohen didn't respond, Lily said, "S-s-so what is th-the p-p-party t-tonight?"

"Local girls from the high-school act as models for a fashion-show; the ticket funds and donations go to the Battered Women's Shelter," Mrs Cohen said, and that caught Lily's interest. She knew appearances meant nothing when it came to what went on behind closed doors, but if every family was at least a little like the Cohens', she doubted very many of the women in these fabulous houses were in need of the kind of services that specific organisation offered. "And there's a clothing-drive; give old things to the foundation to help women who have nothing get back on their feet." Lily licked her lips again, giving a slight nod as Mrs Cohen's brushes left her face.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now," Mrs Cohen said, and she was smiling when Lily opened her eyes. She had a nude lip-pencil that she gently brushed around Lily's lips, before filling them in and applying a beautiful rich lipstick called 'Grenadine' by _Smashbox_, with a retractable brush, making Lily pout softly while she applied it, taught Lily to blot the first layer to create a liner for the second coat.

"And last but not least," Mrs Cohen smiled, picking up a squeeze-tube by _NARS_ called 'Orgasm Illuminator', a crème that Mrs Cohen put a tiny dot of on each cheekbone, then smudged and blended with her fingertip in place of a blush.

"D-don't you have t-to d-do anything to get ready?" Lily asked. Mrs Cohen smiled.

"I had the full works at the salon today," she smiled warmly. "One of the ways I wind down from work. On the weekends I get to play. All I have to do is get dressed and put on my perfume. By the time we're ready, the boys will be dressed and moaning about being hungry, and we can go." While Mrs Cohen was finishing up Lily's hair and makeup, Lily noticed the book lying on Mrs Cohen's bedside cabinet.

"You're re-reading _W-wuthering—Heights_?" she said quietly, trying not to move her head too much.

"Yes; the girls chose it for this month's book-club read," Mrs Cohen said.

"H-have you…read—it before?" Lily asked.

"Not since high-school," Mrs Cohen said, smiling warmly. "I'd forgotten how heartbreaking it was. I just finished it last night. Have you read it?"

"It's…one of m-my fave-favourites," Lily said quietly. "B-but—I…think C-Cathy was ho-horrible—and t-too impatient. She m-messed everything—up for…herself. If she really…loved—Heathcliff, sh-she w-would have…waited—for him—till the…end of the…world if he'd asked."

"Still, everything was straightened out in the end," Mrs Cohen said, watching her curiously. It took a lot for Lily to speak long sentences, and it took her a long time and she made many mistakes.

"After a—lot of…p-people were…h-hurt," Lily pointed out, and Mrs Cohen nodded. "And C-Catherine L-linton isn't m-much—better than her…mother; she was—spoiled. If she…was the—angel…Ellen s-said she w-was, she w-wouldn't ha-have t-teased Ha-Hareton for—trying to teach…himself h-how to…read."

"I thought Cathy Linton's teaching methods were enterprising, though," Mrs Cohen said, smiling as she wiped her fingers off with a moisturising facial wipe, and Lily nodded; Cathy Linton rewarded Hareton for every correctly-read passage with kisses.

"If a g-girl off-f-f-_o_ffered t-to do that for—Ryan every…t-time he did his…homework, h-h-he would b-be in the r-running f-f-for val-valedictorian-ship," Lily struggled, and Mrs Cohen laughed.

"There," Mrs Cohen said, after a little pause, and she sat back, smiling and admiring her work. "Take a look." She nodded at the mirror, and Lily turned on the stool and glanced into the mirror. And stared, eyes wide. The girl looking back at her wasn't…wasn't Lily. She wasn't the tired-eyed, exhausted girl with her brow drawn stressfully; she was…_pretty_.

She didn't feel like the girl in the mirror was her. This was some sort of Mirror of Erised, giving her a glimpse of the Lillian Atwood who might have been, had things been different. Whatever Mrs Cohen had done, she had brought out Lily's features so beautifully, so _subtly_, highlighting her beautiful smoky light-blue eyes, her extraordinary cheekbones, her very beautiful lips, her eyebrows groomed and plucked. Mrs Cohen had done Lily's hair, glossy, naturally highlighted, soft blonde tresses falling in gentle waves to her shoulders. Mrs Cohen's talent had made Lily look incredibly pretty without looking like she was wearing makeup, the way Marissa had worn a lot of eyeliner and bronzer. She was _pretty_.

She stared at her reflection, resisting the urge to reach out her hand and touch the mirror, to see whether it was solid, or a more beautiful version of herself hovered just beyond her reach, like a mirage of everything she could be, and new she never would be. She saw Mrs Cohen's subtle smile reflected in the mirror, and as if she couldn't help herself, Mrs Cohen sighed, "You're _beautiful_."

Lily had never heard that before. Nobody, not her brothers, her mother, nobody had ever told her she was pretty. What was strange was that…she actually believed Mrs Cohen when she said it—believed Mrs Cohen believed it, too.

Searching for accessories that were appropriate for the event and complemented her dress, Mrs Cohen set out a few extra pieces, and as Lily examined her nails, surprised both by how much she loved the colour and equally surprised by how pretty her nails looked, not even remembering the last time she had painted her nails, Mrs Cohen smiled and reached for the black dress on the chaise meant for Lily.

"Why don't you put this on," she smiled, using some nail-scissors to carefully remove the tag, "and…" She pulled the _J_ _Crew_ bag toward her, filled with slender shoeboxes. "I couldn't decide which style would go best, or which you'd like, so I thought I'd get a few choices. If they're comfortable, you can keep them, I'm sure they'd be useful for work at the florist's or the movie-theatre." And she took the boxes out of the bag one by one, showing Lily three different sets of black ballet-flats. One set had dark jet studs at the toes, glittering subtly; the second pair was a set of plain elastic suede flats, and the third set were of supple black leather. Lily tried not to look at the price-tag on the end of the boxes, where the name of the style of shoe was printed as '_Cece_', but the jet studs caught her eye, glittering subtly and prettily, the leather soft and supple. While her nails dried, Lily eyed the shoes, the dress…wondered what Mrs Cohen was thinking about.

"Oh!" Mrs Cohen exclaimed, dashing to the dressing-table, and brought out a decorative packet of what Lily realised was fashion-tape when Mrs Cohen handed it to her. "Just in case, I remember a few traumatising fashion _faux_ _pas_ with strapless dresses when I was your age." She giggled, her smile brilliant and glittery, and Lily blushed, smiling, as she took the little packet of tape strips. Checking her watch, Mrs Cohen gave a slight start. "We'd better get dressed." Her makeup and hair already done, all Mrs Cohen had to do was get dressed, and her outfit was already laid out on the bed, with several different choices of jewellery and handbags; so Lily picked up her dress, the fashion-tape, and made her way to the walk-in closet through which she had to go to get to the en-suite to change.

"Mrs C-c-Cohen?" Lily said, pausing at the door, and Mrs Cohen smiled at her coaxingly, as if she wanted to hear what Lily wanted to say. There were a lot of things Lily wanted to say, to tell Mrs Cohen how grateful she was for everything she and her husband and son had done the last eighteen hours. All she could manage was, "Th-thank you… I h-had fun." Mrs Cohen smiled warmly.

"I did too," she smiled, and Lily tucked herself in the bathroom with her dress and the packet of fashion-tape. She folded the robe carefully, setting it on the console, and did up the little concealed zip on the dress, putting a little bit of tape just above the trim of the bandeau bra, sticking the sweetheart neckline of the dress to her skin to prevent any slips. She turned to stare in the full-length mirror attached to the door.

Unlike the girl Ryan had been talking to last night, she didn't have the time to spend hours in front of a mirror doing her hair, had little money to spend on anything let alone buying new clothes, makeup, perfume… The last time she had dressed up like this had been the homecoming dance last year; Theresa had lent her a vibrant red dress like Katie wore in _Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights_, and Mrs Diaz had done her hair. But she realised how skinny she was, hitching the bodice up over her little breasts, and she was glad of the little packet of fashion-tape Mrs Cohen had bought, even if she felt bad about Mrs Cohen spending so much money on her, just for a party.

Her hair whispering at her shoulders in gentle, beachy waves, her makeup subtle but beautiful with a pinch of colour in her lips, a natural, subtle flush in her cheeks, the black dress was understated and sophisticated, the sheer skirt giving a slightly more girlish vibe to fit her age. She only regretted the still-healing scar high on her left forearm where she had burned herself at the diner, and how skinny she was, but she wasn't nearly as angular as Marissa; her shoulders were slender, her hips slim, and even if her arms were skinny, they were strong. Her hair, her makeup, her _nails_, the _dress_…it was a completely different Lily staring back at her from the mirror.

When she reappeared in the bedroom, she felt for a moment as if she could have fit as Mrs Cohen's daughter; blonde, slim, Lily didn't even have her ears pierced, and she would never get a tattoo. She could have fit in this house, could attend Mr and Mrs Cohen's party without raising suspicion about who she and Ryan really were, where they had come from.

Mrs Cohen wore a very sophisticated, almost rather sexy black dress; it was backless, with a simple strip of heavy black fabric draped around her neck, over her breasts, joining the skirt at her natural waistline. She had draped a diamond lariat around her neck, two large teardrop pearls dangling from the ends. Diamond stud earrings glittered at her ears, and she was tucking a slender silver cell-phone into a thin snakeskin purse as Lily exited the bathroom. Mrs Cohen saw her and smiled.

"You l-look…" Lily didn't even know how to describe it. She had never met a woman as elegant and sophisticated as Mrs Cohen outside of one of her old black and white movies—and Mrs Cohen had the same classically beautiful features as some of her favourite Golden Era heroines. Mrs Cohen smiled at her, and Lily couldn't help smiling back.

"So do you," Mrs Cohen beamed, shaking her head slightly. Who knew a girl from a single-parent, working-class family from Chino could shine up so well? Lily knew that was along the lines of what Mrs Cohen was thinking, but Mrs Cohen was well-bred enough not to let on what she was feeling. She examined Lily's appearance, before smiling, and bringing the boxes of ballet-flats out. "Which did you want to wear?" Lily peered into the boxes, and chose the pair made of black leather, the toes subtly glittering with tiny jet studs. Mrs Cohen used some sort of goo-removing liquid to take the labels off the soles of the shoes before handing them to Lily to wear.

"Let's go and see how the boys shined up," Mrs Cohen said, and Lily quietly shut the bedroom door behind her as Mrs Cohen's heels clicked on the steps leading from the room to the main part of the house.

"Oh, here," Mrs Cohen smiled, handing Lily something, and Lily glanced at her hand before taking what appeared to be a slender rose-gold cuff bracelet, with the recognisable and enviable signature _Tiffany_ etched in slender calligraphy into the metal, with the date, _1837_. "I thought it was just the thing to complete your outfit." Lily stared at it for a moment; this bracelet was probably the most expensive thing she had yet touched in the Cohens' house; Mrs Cohen smiled, took Lily's hand, and carefully slid the bangle onto her wrist. "There. Beautiful."

Seth and Mr Cohen met them in the kitchen, which was a larger version of the kitchenette in the pool-house, featuring a very pretty gold-trimmed tea-set on the island, a waffle-iron, griddle, a bowl of bagels and a _Kitchenaid_. This was the kind of kitchen Lily would have designed for herself, if given the opportunity—if she won the lottery. Both Cohen men had dressed up in a formal suit, with button-down shirts of sumptuous jewel-tone colours, and expensive, patterned ties. Mr Cohen looked very worldly; Seth, very dashing.

"Wow! Look at you!" Mr Cohen grinned, eyeing Lily's dress. "I wouldn't've known you!" Lily smiled shyly, glancing at Seth, who gaped at her, then grinned, nodding.

"You…th-think so?" she stammered shyly, glancing at Seth, who grinned even wider.

"Yeah, I do," he beamed. She smiled bashfully; she wasn't used to wearing a dress, let alone a strapless one.

"Is Ryan ready?" Mrs Cohen asked.

"Just putting the finishing touches to his _coiffure_," Seth said airily, winking at Lily, and she smiled again. The French doors from the patio opened and Ryan appeared. Lily stared at him, a smile tugging at her lips. She had never seen Ryan in a suit. But they looked _good_ on him. He had even managed to don a _tie_.

She stared at him, and he caught sight of her and stared back. It wasn't a wide-eyed gawp, like on television shows, but a guarded stare from under his eyelashes.

"Jeez, you two, you're making me look bad," Seth said, straightening up his flawless tie. Lily blushed. Ryan didn't smile.

"Well, shall we get going?" Mr Cohen asked jovially, jingling his car keys. Lily followed Seth, who seemed unable to stop smiling at the sight of them dressed up to the nines, and heading to a party with them as backup for approaching Summer.

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**A.N.**: I've changed up the next chapter a bit, introducing Oscar earlier and showing Garrett to have an aptitude for photography that's important for the summer chapters of this story; he gets paid to photograph charity events, etc. and it's one thing he and Lily have in common right from the start.

I've had a thought about reviews; if I temporarily enable anonymous reviews, I'd love to hear your thoughts, just put your pen-name so I can reply with my thanks!


	5. Catnip, John Wayne and the Dark Side

**A.N.**: The nature of my naming the previous two chapters 03.1 and 03.2 had me confused when I wanted to upload the next chapter; I forgot about chapter four, and you would have had five by itself and skipped over the fashion-show. Luckily, I'm taking History at university, not Maths.

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**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_04_

* * *

Mr Cohen drove them through the most affluent neighbourhoods of Newport Beach, to a cliff-side country club overlooking the ocean. It had a circular driveway and paid valets, and the entrance was a grand, slightly imposing building that looked like it had presided over the hilltop like a sentinel for the rich and fabulous for decades, but still retained classic glamour in its clean lines and ambient lighting.

Everywhere Lily looked, beautiful older women trying to dress younger stood draped in the most expensive outfits, their throats, wrists, fingers and ears glittering with jewels; everywhere, there were stately older gentlemen wearing expensive suits and sipping gin martinis, like they were extras in some old Hollywood movie. Teenagers Lily's age milled around, dressed expensively, and they were _all_ slender and good-looking. None of the girls were taller than Lily, however, even despite their heels. All of the boys wore the same sharp suits as the older gentlemen, with variations of silk shirts and ties; the girls all wore figure-hugging mini-dresses, most likely _Hervé Leger_, and a few of them toted brightly-coloured cocktails or flutes of champagne.

Soft chords of music drifted on the gentle breeze, and already as the sun began to set over the horizon, touching the sky with gold and rose, the sound of crickets joined the sound of the waves below. Tinkling laughter joined gentle conversation and pretty laughter, and Lily looked around, shyly avoiding anybody's gaze, and entered the courtyard garden area with Seth and Mr and Mrs Cohen.

"Mushroom-leek crescent?" someone said; a waiter in a formal red jacket appeared bearing a silver tray of little savoury appetisers. "Crab and brie filo?" Ryan stared at the man without responding; Lily peered closer interestedly, and the man smiled and offered her a napkin. As Seth muttered "_Welcome to the dark side_," Lily picked out a little crescent-shaped pastry and a parcel of flaky pastry, and Mr Cohen did the same, catching Lily's eye and grinning.

"Food's the only reason I come to these parties," he murmured conspiratorially, and Lily smiled. She had found herself smiling more today than she had in months.

Lily wasn't used to being at parties where she didn't know anybody. She wasn't particularly a party-girl, and preferred staying in with a movie and snacks than going out and forgetting everything she'd done the night before because of the amount of beer she'd consumed. Her aversion to alcohol—based on living with her mother—had a little to do with her dislike of ragers. Plus, she worked so many hours and at so many jobs that she didn't have the time to go out partying.

But this wasn't a raging block party filled with Jell-O shots and drugs, and thuggish, tattooed men getting territorial and possessive. This party was…otherworldly. It was so elegant, and refined. But it was…strange, too. Lily listened to the people's conversations, heard one man talking about a Palm Springs trip with a woman who wasn't his wife, saw another man grope another man's wife while she just smiled on, her hand inconspicuously in his pants pocket; she saw people making eyes at each other across the courtyard, and flirting with each other's wives and husbands. Women drifted around reeking of expensive perfume, their eyes glassy and their glasses filled with straight premium liquor, slinging them back inconspicuously as they chatted with their friends one moment and turned to gossip about them the next. It was a masquerade, a party of frauds all pretending to be legitimate.

Lily understood why Seth hadn't wanted to come to this party.

"So, you must be Kirsten's niece from Boston?" someone said. An older man with a gin martini sidled over to her, and Lily shrank away from him when his friendly smile tried to mask him reaching to feel up her side, resting low on her hip.

"I lived there about ten years ago," he said. "My wife couldn't stand the cold. Personally, I love the white winters. How about you?"

"Uh… Ex-excuse m-m-me," Lily fumbled, feeling flushed and agitated, escaping away to the bar, slipping through other guests. She mumbled shame-facedly for a glass of water and sipped the icy drink (the glass filled with chopped strawberries, mint leaves and bits of cucumber), taking the time to calm her nerves.

Even here, in Wonderland, men were perverted. She was young enough to be his daughter. She took another sip of water and shivered. It happened again—with a different man. Brushing his hand against his shoulder, it dipped against her chest and he stared at her legs as he talked about the hotel he owned in downtown Seattle, and whether she'd like to see the view from the penthouse of his hotel in South Beach, Florida. Again, Lily slipped away, and as she watched Ryan responding in the affirmative to a woman's question of whether he was from Canada or not, another man groped her bottom as he passed her. She jumped and scuttled away, upset. Why was it that they thought it was _okay_? Or that it was some obscure way of getting her interest.

"Hey," Seth said, sidling up to her at the bar, where she was digging out the bits of cucumber and strawberry with a cocktail-stick. His dark eyes flickered over her face and he stilled. "You okay?" he asked gently, concern evident in his voice. "You look a little spooked." Lily shrugged awkwardly, feeling jittery and upset. Seth nabbed one of the waiters as he passed, getting a selection of sweet canapés.

"Dad said you tried the savoury canapés. I like these ones." He handed her the napkin, which was filled with little finger-foods beautifully constructed and bite-size. Chocolate-dipped strawberries, elegant shot-glasses filled with ripe cherries, miniature fruit tarts, mini cupcakes, miniature madeleines, meringues, Portuguese tarts, baklava, and the French-style _macarons_ Lily had heard were becoming the in-thing for dessert treats.

"I think I—understand…why—you—don't…like these p-p-parties," Lily said quietly. "Th-these p-p-people aren't v-very n-nice."

"It's the master race," Seth said, staring around at the party as Lily picked out some little treats. "So, I saw Mr Palmer groping you." Lily glanced up at Seth, irked by the fact that she had been witnessed being assaulted, and nobody had done anything. "Yeah, I guess I should've warned you not to let any of these guys within five feet of you."

"You're catnip," said a luxuriously deep voice; the deep rumble of the voice made Lily shiver, in a completely unfamiliar way; she _liked_ it. She glanced over her shoulder, and came face-to-chest with a beautiful forget-me-not blue striped silk shirt and a lilac polka-dotted tie. She glanced up, and her stomach flip-flopped, her cheeks burning.

She had been wondering whether she would see him again. Garrett stood in front of her, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a wonderfully formal suit, his hair combed and sleek, bringing his gentle eyes and striking cheekbones into their full potential, and making him look like he belonged in a Golden Era movie as the heroic heartthrob.

"Hi," Lily whispered, and swallowed nervously, licking her lips. "Cat-catnip?" she asked, perplexed. Garrett grinned handsomely.

"It's the way guys like them react to girls like you," he said quietly, his voice so deep and rich that it felt like…well, like it enveloped her, warming her.

"Girls—girls like…me?" Lily asked, even more confused.

"Beautiful girls young enough to be their daughters," Seth spoke up, and Garrett nodded. "They're usually looking for their next wives, you know, when the old models get outdated."

"That's…n-not very nice," Lily said, frowning at the absurdity of Seth's statement, but looking around, she noticed that all of the women over thirty-five were trying to dress like they were still sixteen, and nobody seemed to have a wife over forty, because so many of them had had Botox and other surgeries, trying to keep them young.

"Hey, are you working tonight?" Seth asked, and he drew Lily's attention to the cameras Garrett was carrying; one was a traditional film-camera, an old _Leica_, and the newer, flashier model was a beautiful little black _Lumix_. She hadn't noticed the strap of a small, nondescript camera-bag that probably held a few extra lenses, and she was confident about her own photography enough to ask Garrett, "What m-m-model _Lumix_ is that?"

"Uh, it's the new G3," Garrett said, glancing at her as if surprised she knew by sight the camera. A photography class at school freshman-year had given Lily a lot of confidence in her talent with a camera, and she had loved developing the negatives herself, printing the photographs and seeing the way things came into reality after the chemical process had been completed. "And, yes, I am working tonight."

"W-working for what?" Lily asked curiously.

"I, uh, I work as a photographer for _Riviera_ _Magazine_. The magazine pays me for the photos I take," Garrett explained, and even in the dark, he seemed to flush a little, glancing at her from under his lashes.

"D-do you prefer film or digital?" Lily asked; she'd never used a digital-camera. She loved _true_ photography.

"Depends what I'm working on," Garrett smiled. "They both have their merits." Lily nodded; she could imagine being able to take thousands of photographs on a tiny memory-card would be perfect for photographing events like this, but she would miss the pleasure of watching the image appear in the dark-room. Gesturing to his camera, Garrett said, "D'you mind?" Glancing at Seth, he gave a tiny smile, a dimple winking in his cheek, and Lily glanced at Seth, who sighed in a long-suffering way before bouncing into place beside Lily, grinning like a four-year-old confronted with the ball-pen at _Chuck E. Cheese_. Garrett chuckled deeply, bringing out his camera.

Lily should have taken a photograph of her and Ryan before they came out; this was the first and only time she had ever seen Ryan in a suit, and probably the last time either he or Lily would dress up so formally. Even the few weddings Lily had been to, the guests hadn't been dressed so properly. Seth grabbed Garrett's camera, goofing off with it and making Lily laugh; Garrett's laugh was a deep, warm rumble, and he stood in for some photographs that Seth took, before snapping the flash at several passersby, Garrett wresting the camera out of his hands; she hadnt noticed him before, but an incredibly white-blonde boy with staggering cheekbones and blue eyes was stood at the bar, morosely going through the contents of the bowls of nuts and nibbles, being ignored by everyone else who approached the bar; she briefly recognised that he wore hearing-aids before Garrett glanced from the boy to Lily, smiled, and guided Lily over to the bar.

The boy greeted Garrett with a brotherly embrace, and he smiled at Lily, glancing at Garrett and giving him a very impressed smirk. When the boy spoke, he used his hands to sign as well as speak, and Lily followed what he signed; it wasn't consistent with what he was saying. Lily flushed at what he was signing—was Lily Garrett's new girl?—and averted her eyes to the bowl of assorted nuts.

"I'd like you to meet my best-friend in the entire world," Garrett said, grinning at the other boy, and Lily glanced up, smiling shyly.

"Hi," the boy said, smiling warmly.

"What's your n-n-name?" Lily asked, signing at the same time, and finding it slightly eye-opening that she struggled more with her speech than she did with her sign-language, which she had learned in seventh-grade and hadn't used in months.

The look on the boy's face was priceless. It was so comical that Garrett, so quiet previously, burst out laughing, his deep, rumbling laugh rubbing Lily just the right way, filling her up with a kind of giddy tenderness that made her want to smile; so she did. The boy recovered fast, a grin splitting his face in two, and he reached over to give Lily a quick squeeze. A little unnerved by the hug from a total stranger, she rubbed her arm nervously, but smiled.

Signing as he spoke, this time his words were consistent with his sign-language, his smile cheeky as he said, "I'm Oscar—and you are _very_ good with sign-language."

"I'm L-l-l-Lily. It's n-n-nice to meet you," Lily said, smiling shyly. He caught Garrett's eye and his expression said a lot; it seemed like, just as with Seth, Oscar was isolated by the rest of the partygoers not because of social awkwardness, but because of his deafness. Lily knew what it was like, feeling incapable of talking to people, and she was glad of having learned sign-language, even if she hadn't used it in ages.

When Garrett had to leave them to take photographs of other guests, Oscar trailed beside Lily back to Seth, who was pouting and filling up on sweet canapés.

"S-so Garrett is o-one of your f-friends?" Lily asked, signing to Oscar, who grinned.

"Yeah. Known him since preschool," he said affectionately.

"D-does he know-know s-sign-language too?" Lily asked, signing along.

"Yeah. I taught him, when we were kids. We drove his parents insane when I'd come over," Oscar grinned beautifully. Like Garrett, he was probably one of the most beautiful boys Lily had ever seen, but his was a pristine, impish handsomeness, a mischievous twinkle of humour in his eyes. His expression turned mischievous and thoughtful, and his eyes twinkled, his dimples winked at her, and he said, "Still do, actually."

"D-do you know Seth?" Lily asked, gesturing to the other boy, and Oscar nodded, grinning easily.

"We've not hung out since second grade," Seth said, nodding, giving Oscar an awkward smile. "I've forgotten all my sign-language."

"I can teach you," Oscar said, grinning.

"You wanna sit in the corner with me and quietly mock people?" Seth asked. "It's fun."

"I don't m-m-make…fun—of people," Lily said quietly, her face burning. She licked her lips, swallowed nervously and took a deep breath. "As John—Wayne said…in his—last ever…movie, _The Shootist_… 'I won't b-be wrong-wronged, I won't b-be insulted, and I w-won't b-be l-laid a hand on. I d-don't d-do these things—to other people, and I…require the—same from them_._'"

"You're not afraid of getting your hair wet _and_ you watch John Wayne movies?" Seth grinned; Oscar was watching her thoughtfully. "If you like _Jenga_ we've got ourselves a date."

"What's J-_Jenga_?" Lily asked, and Seth gasped, staring at her.

"Don't worry; I'll teach you," he promised, gently patting her arm; he glanced at her and tutted softly, shaking his head. "It's a board-game—or, essentially, a more sophisticated version of building-blocks with rules."

"I d-don't sup-suppose they have a set here," Lily said, following Seth around the edge of the candlelit pool.

"Uh, no," Seth remarked, and Oscar chuckled. A group of teenaged girls—all slender and bearing the same blonde extensions—sidled past, wearing variations of the same skin-tight dress; they each eyed Lily curiously, her dress, the way her hair was arranged, her lipstick, and consulted as they walked past, murmuring amongst themselves and giving Seth and Oscar strange looks.

"They're wondering why you're standing with me," Seth said quietly, when Lily glanced at him.

"Why?" Seth shrugged.

"I'm not too popular around here," Seth said.

"Garrett seemed t-to like you," Lily said.

"Hey, Queer," someone said, and the good-looking boy who had picked up Marissa last night strutted over, slinging an arm around Seth's shoulders. Seth looked surprised—and highly uncomfortable. Oscar looked almost impatient at the boy's appearance. The boy eyed Lily unashamedly.

"Uh, hey, Luke," Seth said uncomfortably.

"So, how much d'you have to pay her to stick around you all night, huh?" Luke asked, still staring wolfishly at Lily. Lily stared coolly at him, unable to believe what she had heard.

"What'd you say to my sister?" Ryan appeared at her shoulder, and instinctively Lily reached out, curling her fingers tightly around his wrist, warning him not to rise to the bait. Not here, in front of Seth, Mr and Mrs Cohen, their friends.

"Nothin', dude," Luke said, glancing at Ryan and sizing him up. While this Luke boy was the taller of the two, Ryan had more bulk to his frame, and even though he had never won a fistfight, Ryan could do some damage, especially against this useless pretty-boy. Luke swaggered off, and Lily released her hold on Ryan's wrist. He watched Luke walk away, his nostrils flared, always a definite warning sign of a volcanic eruption brewing. Garrett returned, scowling rather dangerously after Luke, tucking a lens into his camera-bag, and Oscar signed quickly to Garrett.

"He said _what_?" Garrett scowled, glancing back at Luke's retreating back. He sighed, and glanced at Lily. "Luke Ward wasn't bred for his manners." Lily licked her lips again, and nodded awkwardly. She wasn't used to receiving apologies, and didn't particularly understand the concept and the delicacies of accepting them. Her speech impediment prevented her from saying a lot of things she wanted to, and her lack of experience with good people made it difficult for her to know what she should say (if she could've) and when.

"Garrett! It's so good to see you! You have to tell me _all_ about Mexico," a woman crooned adoringly, and they glanced around at an older woman who swept over. Garrett glanced regretfully at Lily and slipped away. Oscar caught her eye and gave her a twinkling little smirk that said a lot of things, none of which Lily really wanted defined. Lily stayed where she was, while Seth and Ryan murmured to each other about the "jack-ass water-polo player" who had insulted Lily, just thinking while she sipped her water, sharing a companionable silence with Oscar.

She had never found boys interesting; particularly at her school, she knew she was probably one of only a handful who would actually graduate and make something of herself, and she hadn't wanted to repeat history by getting pregnant and married, and ending up the single-parent when her husband lost his job and lost hope. She had never liked the look of any of the boys at school because she had never looked, but Garrett… Whether in board-shorts or an expensive suit, he looked incredible. From their few brief interactions, he had seemed a quiet sort of boy, which didn't quite keep with his impressive stature and deep tenor voice, but watching the way he interacted with other guests, Lily saw that he was actually quite a social-butterfly. He grinned easily, was charming and sincere, was polite and seemed to be able to talk to anyone.

"Handsome devil, isn't he?" Oscar signed to her, and Lily flushed warmly, rubbing her arm nervously. Oscar chuckled, grinning.

"Summer's right over there!" Seth blurted a moment later, and Lily glanced up. "I'm sorry, wait, don't look—don't look, don't look, don't look, I mean, I know you can look but don't look like you're looking! _Oh_!" Seth panted breathlessly, trying not to stare across the pool. Lily glanced past Ryan at a cluster of teenaged girls, one of whom was Marissa, and beside her stood a petite brunette girl with wide eyes and pretty breasts showcased in a plunging neckline.

"She's p-p-pretty," Lily said quietly, glancing back at Seth; Ryan stealthily caught a glimpse of the girls, and Lily glanced around as Mr Cohen joined them.

"Hey kids," he said cheerfully. He caught sight of Marissa and Summer across the pool and pointed. "Is that Summer?"

"I'm gonna, er, _go_—" Seth said awkwardly, his cheeks flaming up as he skulked away. Ryan, popping stuffed olives into his mouth, chewed and said, "Way to salt his game, Mr Cohen."

Mr Cohen glanced at Lily and a chuckling Oscar as Ryan followed in Seth's wake. "Messed that up, huh?" Lily nodded.

"You could-could have been a little m-more subtle," she said, and Mr Cohen shrugged, rolling his eyes.

"I guess I'll never get it right," he sighed, smiling at her. "Anyway, parents are born to embarrass their kids. It's a code of honour." Lily smiled, and Mr Cohen was reclaimed by a friend; Lily slipped away with Oscar, to Ryan and Seth, who were getting drinks at the bar.

"God, I hope they serve dinner soon," Seth moaned, his hand on his stomach. "I'm wasting away here." Lily smiled and popped a little roast-beef canapé in her mouth, eyeing Seth, who was built like a pipe-cleaner.

"They s-serve you a proper—dinner, too?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, yeah," Oscar nodded. "Three course meal—four, if you're a cheese-eater."

"And then we get to watch some of my most favourite people in the world prance about in high-heels," Seth groused.

"What, the—boys are…dressing up?" Lily asked, mildly astonished. One of the funniest things she remembered from school last year was half the football team dressing up as cheerleaders for a pep-rally that went awry.

Seth grinned.

"No, not _here_, but _I_ think they sashay girlishly in high-heels and mini-skirts when they're alone," he said, and Oscar laughed. "The water-polo players all shave their chests."

"Why do…they—do that?" Lily asked. She didn't have a clue what water-polo was, but guessed it was some form of organised water-sport.

"Do I look like I play water-polo?" Seth asked, grinning cheekily. "How would I know?" A soft, tinkling bell rang out and Seth sighed. "_Finally_. I hope you like salmon."

"Why?" Ryan asked.

"Because that's all they ever serve at these parties," Seth remarked. "Come on, let's go grab some seats."

The ballroom of the country club was quite dark, lit in the majority by individual table-lamps surrounded by a wreath of beautiful flowers. Lily, a florist, was always an appreciator of skilful arrangements, and the flowers she saw arranged in enormous urns at the doorways and by the dessert spread and on the tables were some of the finest quality flowers she had ever seen. The flowers at her little florist shop in Chino were nothing compared to the roses and lilies used in the decorations here. She wondered who got the arrangements when the party ended. Down the centre of the room was erected a large catwalk, the sides covered with dark cloth to disguise the structure beneath, and the top was made of opaque plastic that, Seth said, lit up when the fashion show started.

"Have you been…to a—lot of these fashion…fashion-shows?" Lily asked.

"More than I cared to," Seth said. "They hold one every year."

"And all—of this goes to…charity?" Lily asked, and Seth nodded. She couldn't see anything wrong with that. The luxury and indulgence demonstrated amongst the guests and the hosts was probably one of the callings to attend this event; an open bar, sumptuous meal, and watching the "catnip" don beautiful clothing for their entertainment.

Oscar led them over to a large round table, which, like the others, was draped with a heavy burgundy tablecloth, fine silverware, glasses, personal menus at each pace-setting, and more flowers. Perhaps seeing the way the men pulled out chairs and tucked them in for their wives and daughters around them, Ryan pulled out Lily's chair, nodded to it, and Lily sat down; Ryan pushed her chair in and sat down beside her. Garrett appeared, clapping a hand on Oscar's shoulder before freeing himself of his camera-bag and sitting down opposite Lily, who reached for the personal menu set in her place and picked it up. _Cantaloupe melon with Parma ham_, read the starter. Beneath that, the main-course was _Salmon filet with a white-wine rue, runner-beans and Dauphinoise potatoes_. The dessert was either _Helen Pears with Warm Chocolate Sauce_ or a selection of sweets from the dessert spread. Lily jumped mildly when a waiter appeared to ask for their drinks orders. With fresh drinks all around, another waiter arrived, bearing a large circular tray filled with little plates. She had never had Parma ham—and liked it immensely.

The main course appeared, and it wasn't just handed out to each guest; every plate had been beautifully arranged, the presentation perfect, with little patterns of the white-wine sauce swirling over the plate, the salmon perched atop a little mound of creamy, cheese-encrusted Dauphinoise potatoes, with buttery organic runner-beans arranged beside it. Lily loved to cook, and if she could have afforded it, would have learned how to prepare this dish. It was so simple and elegant and _tasty_. Ryan picked uncertainly at his dinner, but quickly devoured it, and Lily could tell by his expression that he liked it. She licked her lips of the last of the rue sauce and took a sip of water.

While Seth and Oscar bounded off for the desserts table, and returned with a plate heaped with delicious little fancy pastries and cakes and cupcakes, cookies and a pudding parfait in a shot-glass, Lily remained at her seat, and accepted a bowl of dessert. The delicate Helen pear had been simmered in sugar-water and left to cool overnight, served cold in a dainty bowl, with warm chocolate sauce poured over the top just before having been served. She could taste the vanilla that had been put in the sugar-water, and thought she could taste some sort of spice in the chocolate sauce, and loved the simplicity and contrasting luxury of the dish. _She_ could make this dessert. If she could get her hands on a computer, she was going to search recipes for these dishes, because they were mouth-watering. The kind of thing she could imagine cooking for a date.

The lighting changed, and Garrett left his seat after finishing his pear; the lamps dimmed and the stage lit up, and spotlights landed on it; one focused on the break in two curtains pulled across the mouth of the catwalk, and the girl Ryan liked the look of, Seth's neighbour, appeared, in the same second-skin dress she and all of her friends seemed to love—only hers was black, with white segments slashing into it. The guests applauded her appearance, and Marissa beamed around.

"First of all, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all of you for coming tonight. Every year we put on a fashion show to raise money for the battered women's shelter," Marissa said, over the microphone; everyone applauded politely. Lily stared around, wondering if any of these people even realised there was a need for places like the battered women's shelter. "It's such a wonderful cause, and we couldn't have done any of it without your support, or the support of Fashion Island and all of their fabulous boutiques. With that said, enjoy the show! And remember, all donations are tax-deductable!"

Marissa beamed around to the applause, and as she stepped through the curtain divide, she paused and kissed cheeks with Seth's Summer, who wore a patterned little sundress and smoky eye-makeup with bright lips, and heeled sandals that crept up to her knees. She strutted down the catwalk, waving and grinning, and having a great time.

"She's got Tahiti written all over her," Seth sighed, to Oscar's amusement, and Seth sat staring at Summer unabashedly. Summer disappeared, replaced by a svelte blonde girl. Lily paid no attention to the girls, but admired the gowns and dresses and outfits they displayed. Girl upon girl sauntered out onto the catwalk, with the same makeup, same figure, same smile, and Lily noticed that Seth was right; the master race had been perfected in Newport. They probably all had the same stylist, wanting to adhere to the latest trends and be unique, but fit in at the same time. And very few of them were from the ethnic minorities. A beautiful Persian girl demonstrated her grace in a pair of five-inch stilettos and a sweeping cut-out ball-gown, a black girl with beautiful cheekbones displayed a glittery mini-skirt and blazer outfit, and a sweet-faced Asian girl in a mini-dress had a tiny blip with her heel catching on one of the breaks in the catwalk, but they were the extent of the cultural melting-pot. It contrasted Lily's neighbourhood, her school, where she and Ryan, as the blonde, blue-eyed Aryans, were the minority.

When the girls linked hands and made another tour of the catwalk together, the director of the fashion show, a stately woman with a Carolina Herrera look about her pressed white blouse and fitted black skirt joined them, signalling the end of the show. After the applause died down, the girls retreated, and it seemed that everyone took this as a sign to leave their tables and mingle, making their way out of the ball-room. Seth led the way out, eagerly anticipating being away from the kids he loathed, and Lily followed him out to the valet's podium; Oscar had disappeared with Garrett, and Ryan was held up, when she glanced over her shoulder, by Seth's crush.

"Hey, where are you going?" Summer asked Ryan. "My friend Holly—well, her parents—are letting us use their beach-house, as a gift, you know, because of all our hard work for charity. If you need a ride," Summer gestured to a group of girls piling into a yellow _Jeep_, "or…anything… I'm Summer." Beyond the yellow _Jeep_, Marissa was climbing into her boyfriend's pickup, and Lily saw Ryan's eyes lingering on her as her boyfriend closed the door on her. Ryan skipped down the steps to them, catching Seth's arm.

"Hey, you ready to go?" Seth asked.

"We should go to that party at that girl Holly's place," Ryan said, glancing over his shoulder at the _Jeep_.

"Yeah, no, it's not really—" Seth said, looking awkward and shaking his head.

"Summer invited me," Ryan said, and Seth's expression registered shock and disappointment.

"Really, she did?" he asked, pretending to be pleased for Ryan, but it was evident his heart was about to shatter into a thousand pieces.

"Uh—she invited _us_," Ryan amended awkwardly, glancing at Lily. "She asked for _you_, actually."

"Really. She did?" Seth said sardonically, and they glanced at the Jeep.

"Come on!" Summer called, standing in the back of the car. Her girlfriends cheered and laughed.

"That makes absolutely no sense, but, yes, we should go," Seth said eagerly, and turning to the valet and his parents, said, "Thanks, guys; we're gonna go with them." Lily carefully slid the _Tiffany_ bangle from her wrist, handing it to Mrs Cohen with a shy smile of thanks, not wanting to lose it at this party.

"Thank you," she said again, and Mrs Cohen smiled.

"Enjoy yourself," she said. "Be careful." Lily nodded, and made sure not to trip over the hem of her diaphanous skirt before following the boys to the _Jeep_. Ryan offered her a hand and used one arm to lift her into the back of the car.

"If it sucks," Seth said, "we can always bail." Lily smiled, because his eyes were fixed on Summer. She knew there was no way in hell anything but a major natural disaster could remove Seth from any place Summer was.

Driving through Newport Beach's wealthiest neighbourhoods, the driver of the _Jeep_, a tall girl with very long, curly brunette hair, navigated them closer to the oceanfront, to a neighbourhood of beachside houses that could have fit five multiples of Lily's home within them with ease. It was easily evident where the party was; loud hip-hop echoed in the darkness, and the sounds of a party drew them down a long driveway lined with palm trees strung with glittering lights; the enormous white house was decorated with strings of fairy-lights, and teenagers lingered around the property, sauntering into the house and dancing on the balconies.

The _Jeep_ lurched to a stop to avoid crippling two girls' legs, and the girls piled out of the car, greeting their friends with excited squeals and hugs, accepting red cups filled with alcohol. Seth and Ryan climbed out, and Ryan hung back to offer Lily a lift down; she put her hands on his shoulders, and he lifted her gently by the waist, setting her carefully on her feet; he slung an arm familiarly around her shoulders, murmured, "Be safe," and Lily took hold of Seth's hand and they made their way toward the house.

They entered the house, instantly seeing one couple making out and groping right inside the door, and a cluster of people, including bikini-clad girls and guys from the fashion show who had removed their ties, gyrating to Black Eyed Peas; a knot of guys and girls compared the benefits of different packs of condoms; and the coffee-table in the sitting-area dominated by a collection of bongs and CD-cases decorated with neat lines of white powder. The countertops in the kitchen were covered with plastic cups, big plastic bowls of Jell-O shots, ice-buckets filled with beers, vodka alcopops, and a ton of bottles of alcohol and mixers. Outside on the deck, several kegs were in use.

"Welcome to the Dark Side," Ryan said softly, grinning around.

"Oh, cocaine," Seth said awkwardly, eyes wide at his first experience of being around drugs. "That's awesome," he said sarcastically.

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**A.N.**: A few subtle changes to the timeline, meeting Oscar now instead of at the ice-cream stand. No sitting at the kiddie-table; Garrett's a photographer. Marissa's embracing Hervé Leger like a Serena van der Woodsen wannabe (although, given I'm making Jimmy and Anne Archibald cousins, Nate will be appearing in the fic at some point, therefore Marissa can't try and emulate a fictional character from a TV show)… Again, please review!


	6. A Threesome in the Bathroom

**A.N.**: Thank you especially to _soapfan2006_ and _Dark-n-Twisty_ for your continued support and reviews, I appreciate it! And also the whip-cracks to finish this story!

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**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_05_

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It was a lot like Ryan's and Trey's friends' parties at home; there was too much alcohol, too many pretty girls and too many guys trying to get lucky. The only difference was that the card-games being played at the dining-room table were being played for hundreds of dollars, not tens, and the alcohol in the kitchen was all top-shelf, very expensive. In Chino they used the same red plastic cups to hold their beer, which came from the same kinds of kegs, and they even listened to the same kind of music at parties, but…Lily had never been to a party where girls were dancing in their bikinis, or ignoring the dance-floor and their friends to chat loudly on their expensive cell-phones. Aside from that, the desire for full cups and sex was the same. But she had never been to a party where the house opened up onto the beach, with the moonlight glittering off the frothy waves.

People could sometimes be undeniably friendly when they'd had a few drinks, before they had too many and ruined the atmosphere; but these kids were still at the happy, excited, bubbly phase and several of the girls came up to her, chatting about people she'd never even met and complimenting her on her dress and asking if her hair was naturally such a pretty colour. Boys asked how tall she was and whether she was really a relative of _Seth Cohen_'s, and did she want to dance.

She did dance, for a little bit, and some of the girls were amazed she had no cell-phone or even had an email or Facebook account when they asked to trade numbers so they could meet up and party another night. She wasn't…comfortable, but she wasn't uncomfortable either, and even though they were younger versions of their gossipy parents, the kids around her were accommodating, because they thought she was one of them, just as people at the fashion-show had assumed Ryan was one of them in his smart suit and neatly-combed hair. When she got thirsty, she filled a cup with ice and used the water-dispenser from the refrigerator to fill it with water.

"You're not drinking tonight?" someone asked quietly, but the deep timbre of the voice made her want to smile as she turned around. There was Garrett, and he had changed out of his jacket and tie and smart pants, but kept his forget-me-not shirt on over a pair of dark jeans, with sleeves pushed up to his elbows, the tails un-tucked and the top buttons undone to reveal a flawless tan and collar-bones that seemed begging to be nibbled. She swallowed nervously, feeling her stomach squeeze pleasantly at the sight of him, and she shook her head.

"I d-d-don't really—like to…drink," she said, feeling her face burn as she frowned ashamedly at the floor, but he was smiling when she glanced up. He had really nice arms, tanned and contrasting the pale striped silk of his shirt. He nodded and smiled shyly.

"Where's Oscar?" Lily asked curiously.

"He went home," Garrett sighed, sipping his drink. "Jetlag. And he hates these things."

"Because n-n-nobody b-bothers to talk t-to him?" Lily guessed, and Garrett gave her a smiling, measuring glance.

"That's exactly it," he said, smiling. "When'd you learn to sign?"

"Seventh g-grade," Lily said, sighing.

"I think you're the first person besides me to bother approaching Oscar," Garrett said. Lily didn't point out that Garrett had introduced them; she had made the effort to sign with Oscar after Garrett had gone on to take more photographs. "So…who'd you come here with?"

"Um…a girl—called…Summer," Lily said. "She—invited…Ryan…" She shrugged awkwardly, glancing around for her brother and Seth.

"Yo, Garrett! It's your turn to deal!" someone called, and Lily glanced around as Garrett did, at the dining-table, where several kids were hoarding stacks of poker-chips and someone brandished a deck of cards. Garrett glanced at her, his warm eyes speaking much more than anything else, and he smiled subtly.

"Do you play?" he asked. Lily smiled shyly. She did play. She _won_. She knew how to count cards. Nobody expected upstanding Lily to know how to count cards, but therein lay her best advantage.

She followed Garrett to the table, where a seat was vacated for her, and he smiled at her and slipped her a fifty-dollar bill. Lily stared at it, then at him, and he shuffled the cards expertly. She noticed his hands—huge, with long, clever fingers, and clean nails. She was so used to seeing guys with grease or plaster on their fingers, it was a nice change to see someone who knew how to clean up properly. She wondered what it would be like to have him hold her face in those hands.

They played poker. As the party roared around them, the other players got steadily tipsier and more and more money was thrown down, Lily consistently lost and won several hands, until what Garrett called as the last hand, and then… She smiled privately, neatly stacking the bills piled in the centre of the table, quickly counting them up to over three thousand dollars.

"Wow," Garrett said softly, and Lily glanced at him as she curled the last note around the others and folded them. He was smiling at her, which she hadn't expected; she'd thought he would be frowning, or glaring for losing, as the other players were as they dispersed, defeated. "For a quiet girl, you're lethal. Where'd you learn to play like that?"

Lily glanced at Garrett and smiled bashfully. "My…m-mother. What about you?" She glanced at the money he had gained from several of the other hands. He smiled.

"My cousins," he said, smiling beautifully. Lily stared at the money in her hand. She had never had as much cash in her hand at once—she had never had as much cash as this _ever_. She picked out a fifty-dollar bill and handed it to Garrett.

"For the one…you—gave…me," she said nervously. Garrett glanced at the money and into her eyes.

"You keep it," he said softly. And even though the music was loud and there were people talking loudly and laughing, the deep timbre of his voice made it easy to hear him. She found herself liking his voice more and more the more often he spoke. There was something…in his expression; he glanced around and licked his lips. "Marissa…told me what your brother said," he said quietly, and Lily felt prickles down her back. She sat up straighter in response to the shiver, her shoulders going back defensively. What _had_ Ryan said to her?

"W-what did he…say?" she asked softly. Garrett glanced around before answering.

"That your mom kicked you out of her house," he said quietly. He eyed the money she held in her hand. "I think you and your brother need the money more even than I do." Lily felt her cheeks warm, but it wasn't out of shame. Though he was probably the best player she had ever played against, and had won the hands Lily had lost, she had won the biggest hand, and he knew she use the money and had invited her to play in the first place.

"Thanks," Lily said quietly.

"Now all you have to do is figure out a place to hide that money till you can get home," Garrett said, eyeing her dress with a handsome grin, and Lily laughed, her cheeks warming again at his sweet smile. She did find a hiding-place for the money; the bodice of her dress, which fit her like a second-skin and cradled the money in place against her body. Garrett slipped away when Lily went to search out Ryan or Seth; she found Seth on the deck, fixing the keg; a boy in a Hawaiian shirt had passed out against the empty keg, and someone had scrawled all over his face with a permanent marker.

"Hi, Seth," Lily said, squatting down beside him. She watched Marissa's boyfriend Luke check over his shoulder before leading a girl who wasn't Marissa out onto the sand, and Ryan appeared, helping himself to a beer.

"You know," Seth said, "I should really learn to knock, in case there's a threesome going on in the bathroom."

"There's a—three-threesome in the…bathroom?" lily asked interestedly.

"Yeah, in the hot-tub," Seth said, shuddering. Lily was more interested about the hot-tub than the threesome; they had a hot-tub _indoors_? The best her friends and neighbours had was a blow-up paddling pool they used on the hottest days of the summer.

Some of the girls who had complimented Lily's dress came over and somehow Lily found herself dancing shyly, avoiding the boys whose hands liked to wander, and avoiding the stiletto heels some of the girls were wearing. Through the patio doors, Lily saw Ryan being manhandled by a very inebriated, bikini-clad Summer. She left the dance-floor and moved through the crowd to the deck, sensing trouble when Seth appeared, looking heartbroken and angry.

"Hey, Ryan—"

"Excuse me!" Summer blurted drunkenly, glaring at Seth as she staggered a few steps, using Ryan for a support.

"What're you doing, man?" Seth stammered, staring at Ryan. "I named my boat after her."

"What? Ew," Summer laughed. "Who are you?"

"Seth!" Ryan called, held up by Summer, still draped all over him and trying to get his attention. "Seth, Seth—_Seth_!"

In a scuffle, Seth pushed Ryan against the wall, to the amusement of onlookers; Lily hadn't thought Seth had it in him, but she supposed anybody could be set off, given the right circumstances, and believing the girl he liked was interested in his friend, well, she supposed that would upset her, too.

"You know what, why don't you go back to Chino?" Seth blurted, upset. "I'm sure there's a really nice car in a parking-lot somewhere that you can steal!"

Seth pushed through the crowd onto the beach, stalking away, angry and upset and inebriated. Ryan caught Lily's eye, and she licked her lips nervously as everyone who had witnessed the argument stared at Ryan, and, by extension, her; she caught Marissa avoiding Ryan's gaze, as if she hadn't known before what he'd done and was ashamed of wanting to now be affiliated with him because everyone else knew. By the porch doors, Garrett stood sentinel, but he didn't avoid Lily's eye when she glanced at him.

Instead, he held her gaze, until her cheeks flamed and she had to look away, embarrassed by Seth's revelation and uncertain why she didn't mind that Garrett knew, the way she was humiliated that everyone else on the deck was laughing and whispering about the delinquent kids from Chino.

Ryan stalked into the house, after catching Marissa's eye and seeing her mortified expression; he reached the kitchen and paused, realising, like Lily had, that there was nowhere to go. Lily remained on the deck, feeling humiliated and flush-faced, but she knew…she couldn't leave this party without Seth. As sweet and naïve as he was, she was sure he would get himself into some kind of trouble, particularly if the way Luke had treated him at the fashion show was any indication of how Seth was usually treated by his peers. Someone sidled up to her, where she stood at the balustrade, which was lined with red cups and someone's forgotten cell-phone, a shirt and a single stiletto.

"How wasted do you have to be to not even realise you're wearing only one high-heel?" someone asked, and Garrett stepped up beside her, eyeing the stiletto heel. Lily smiled shyly and looked out over the beach. Moments later, and everybody had already forgotten Seth's little outburst. "Are you okay?" Lily glanced up at Garrett and smiled sadly.

"_I_ didn't—steal the…car," she said quietly, sighing softly, but even though she hadn't committed a felony, her face burned with humiliation because of the severity of her speech impediment. She rarely spoke, and nobody bothered to make her, and now that she was in the position where she actually wanted to converse with Garrett, she couldn't. Garrett licked his lips thoughtfully and nodded, gazing down at the sand, leaning his arms against the balustrade. Lily sighed and gazed out over the beach, and froze, squinting, when she saw someone in a dark suit being pushed about by several other broadly-built boys down by a bonfire. "Seth!"

She dashed away from Garrett, heading down the steps as quickly as she could, and ran down the beach toward the waterfront and the bonfire, by which Seth was being hung upside down between two burly-looking boys with their shirts billowing open. By the way the boys were guffawing and teasing Seth, Lily guessed Seth suffered bullying from them on a regular basis.

"_Leave_ _him_ _alone_!" she shouted evenly, fierce indignation fuelling her to get past her shyness, her speech impediment.

"Hey Lily," Seth panted, his face glowing in the light of the fire, looking dazed. "What's up?"

The boys smirked at her, eyeing her legs and the curve of her little breasts, her face, and just laughed at her. She glanced around as two shadows joined her; Ryan, and Garrett, who was frowning disapprovingly at the two boys holding Seth aloft.

"Put him down," Ryan said sternly.

"Yo, what's up, dude?" someone called, and Luke came over, adjusting his shirt back square on his shoulders; the girl Lily had seen him leaving with teetered behind, her hair mussed, her blouse buttons misaligned. Lily felt the tension of the situation escalate as Ryan glared at him, eyeing the girl wavering uneasily behind him. "You got a problem?"

"You tell me," Ryan said coolly, stalking closer, and when Luke shoved him, Ryan landed a punch square in his face, knocking him to the ground. Lily jumped and froze, shivering as the boys started a brawl; Luke's friends joined in, teaming up against Ryan, and when Seth hauled one of them off Ryan, he received a crushing blow to the eye that sent him spinning to the sand. Lily gasped and ran to him, where he lay squirming and grimacing, and the boys not participating catcalled and egged them on as Ryan—joined by Garrett, who was quietly taunting Luke about his lack of courage in taking on someone without a horde of his friends to back him up—held his ground against one of Luke's tall, good-looking friends. Unlike Ryan, they seemed afraid of even approaching Garrett in a fight. Whether it was because he possessed such an aura of power in his extraordinary height and build, or because that power was mixed with a grace that made his movements predatory and guarded, like a big cat, Lily didn't know, but Luke was the only one left in the fight when Garrett decided to join it.

Lily knelt down beside Seth, who had received several crushing blows to his tummy and face. She gently patted his cheek and he moaned, reviving consciousness back, and Lily stared at the side of his face as she helped him into a sitting position; the entire side of his face beside his right eye was already mottled in reds and an impressive purple colour.

"Seth, are you…okay?" she whispered tremulously.

"Ow," he moaned, squinting his right eye, which was beginning to swell. She glanced over her shoulder at Ryan, who was crawling off the sand with Garrett's help, having been kicked in the stomach by an exultant Luke. Lily looked her brother over; he had the beginnings of another bruise on his left eye, but the ones from A.J. had since disappeared. Ryan came over and helped Lily haul Seth off the ground. Seth having drunk considerably more than Lily, who been on water all throughout the party, his footsteps were staggered as they made their way back up the beach.

"Do you want a lift home?" Garrett asked, watching Seth and Ryan carefully for signs that they were about to keel over again. Lily glanced at the boys; she hadn't thought about how they were going to get home, besides a taxi; she figured she had enough cash on her to pay for one…but… She nodded, and Garrett shoved his hands into his jacket pocket when he retrieved it from an upstairs bedroom; Lily had grabbed two napkins, filling them with ice, and held one to Seth's face while Ryan held the other to his knuckles. They walked dejectedly up the driveway to the street, where several more cars littered the street; Garrett unlocked his old truck, and Lily helped Seth clamber into the cab. Lily ended up sitting squashed between Seth, who listed against Ryan as soon as Garrett started driving, and Garrett, who was warm, and smelled good.

The open windows of the truck keeping Garrett aware caused warm evening air to curl its invisible fingers through Lily's hair as Garrett drove through town, and the sound of the waves was lost to Garrett's stereo, which was quietly playing a soft song Lily loved, but had never heard before. It was a quiet drive; she glanced over her shoulder and saw Ryan had his eyes closed; beside him, Seth had fallen asleep and was leaning against Ryan's shoulder. Garrett kept his hand on the wheel and his eyes on the road, and Lily wanted to ask who the band was they were listening to, but didn't want to break the silence. She settled into her seat and let the road fly by, her eyes half closing as she listened to the music. She realised Garrett had replaced the radio with a CD-player that had an audio input for an iPod, the only modern touch to a truck easily thirty years old, and she couldn't help wondering why Garrett drove this beat-up old _Chevy_ when everyone within a twenty-mile radius drove _Mercedes_ and _Lexus_ and _BMW_s. In his old truck, wearing a fine shirt with the sleeves rolled up, Garrett looked _comfortable_ in a way none of the other boys in their suits had.

Garrett's deep voice was soft when he spoke, quietly so the boys didn't wake, and Lily glanced around, realising her eyes had fallen shut. "So I guess you don't have a very high opinion of kids in Newport Beach." He glanced at her, and there was something in his speaking blue eyes that said he was…disappointed, perhaps, embarrassed about his friends' behaviour towards Seth and Ryan.

"Some of…them are—okay," Lily said quietly. Others, she would be avoiding in future, if they could pick a fight so easily, and against such mismatched opponents. She avoided thugs as best she could, knowing their explosive tempers and lack of self-control. Ryan was different; he was violent, but wasn't stupid; he'd never gotten into a fight that wasn't warranted. They were usually about protecting someone else. She glanced at Garrett, who took her response without a smile, just a subtle nod. She sat up a little straighter, glancing around at the boys. A few minutes later, Garrett pulled into his driveway, and the music cut off; Lily glanced over her shoulder, witnessing the boys rousing at the change in pace. Like babies that fell asleep when being driven around in the car, so had the boys, and the stop had woken them.

"Thanks for giving—giving us…a—lift," Lily said quietly, as the boys blinked groggily around and slipped out of the car, pressing their ice-packs to their injuries.

"No problem," Garrett said quietly. Lily glanced at Seth, who was staggering, and slid out of the truck, grabbing him and helping him to walk upright. Lily glanced over her shoulder once, saw Garrett watching after them, and then she was tripping up the Cohens' driveway with Seth. She glimpsed Garrett from the Cohens' driveway, and her chest ached for a reason she didn't understand.

They tiptoed around the house, past the Cohens' bedroom windows, which were dark; they crept around the pool and hot-tub and staggered into the pool-house. Seth sank onto the sofa, and, pulling her borrowed shoes off, Lily sank down on the end of the bed, more tired than she had realised. Ryan closed the door and sank down beside her, loosening his tie and pulling it over his head. It was silent in the pool-house, quieter than thetruck, and Lily's ears rang subtly from the echo of the music at the party.

"Well, I don't know what to say," Seth said slowly, eyeing them both, "except that you two _totally_ had my back, back there. We could have ourselves a little Fight Club or something." Ryan smiled tiredly beside her, and Lily subtly moved the money to her backpack and bringing her pyjamas out from where the Cohens' housekeeper had folded and tucked them beneath one of the pillows on the bed. "You know what I think, Ryan, I think that if you were to teach me some moves, I think we could totally take them next time, that's what I think. A little bit of that," Seth said, kicking out, and he did so again and again, making her smile, "little bit of that, that—whaddaya think about _that_?" He reached out a hand to Lily and they gripped hands in a little secret-style handshake. Lily stealthily slipped her pyjamas on, and draped the dress over the arm of the sofa.

"Oh, also," Seth said, sitting up and looking alert. "That was not _exactly_ the way I planned on first talking to Summer, but I am now on her radar—do you think I should tell her about Tahiti? Do you?" he asked, glancing at them both.

"Not yet, man," Ryan smiled, and Lily did the same, taking a facial cleansing wipe from her duffel-bag and removing her makeup, applying some moisturising cream to her face after she tossed the wipe in the trash-can.

"See, that's what I was thinking," Seth said. "That's what I thought—I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Well, what a little night we had there. I'm not gonna forget it, guys; I'm not gonna forget that one…" Lily walked over to Seth, reaching out to replace the frozen peas against his face; he reached up to hold it in place himself, and she reached to remove his tie. He looked more tired now that he had gotten everything off his chest, and he mumbled as she manoeuvred him out of his jacket. "Don't get any ideas."

"I'm n-not going—to," Lily said quietly, reaching for the turquoise blanket draped over the back of the sofa.

"Good," Seth mumbled, as Lily draped the blanket over Seth, "'cuz I don't need any beautiful woman taking care of me, apart from my mom."

"Okay," Lily said, smiling as Seth curled up under the blanket.

"Oh no…" Seth blurted softly, sitting up but looking bleary-eyed, panicked. "My _mom_. She's going to kill me."

"I'm sure she w-won't," Lily said softly, smiling affectionately. Seth was a sweet drunk.

"I've never gotten wasted before," Seth remarked thickly, staring with wide eyes at Lily, lying back down, resting his head on a red cushion.

"We couldn't…tell," Lily smiled.

"Ha, someone's trying to be funny," Seth smiled adorably, and he tried to focus on her. "No, really, does the ceiling always spin?"

"Here," Lily chuckled softly, taking Seth's leg, angling it over the edge and placing his foot on the floor. "Better?"

"Uh-huh," Seth slurred.

"The th-things we c-could teach you," Lily said, smiling softly.

"That would be cool," Seth sighed. "I like hanging out with you and Ryan… It's like having friends." Lily glanced at Seth, who sighed, his eyes sliding closed as he curled up under the blanket. Lily glanced at Seth and then at Ryan, who was stripping out of his shirt into his wife-beater and choker. Lily stooped down and brought her ancient Leica camera out of her duffel-bag.

"No, no, no, come on," Ryan said, eyeing the camera warily.

"Just-just a few," Lily said softly, and Ryan relented. Lily smiled, and adjusted the lighting in the room; with Seth sleeping, she took the opportunity to capture the gritty, underhanded side of parties; the sweat, the sand still glittering on Seth's cheek, Ryan's battered knuckles, their bruises and the torn shirts, the aftermath of a fight contrasting the exquisite surroundings.

She didn't know when she was going to be able to process the film, or where, but she knew having a photograph of Seth to remind her of the evening would make her forever remember the Cohens, not that she could forget their kindness.

She climbed into bed, and as Ryan shut out the lamps, she heard him sneak out of the pool-house, probably going for a cigarette; Lily let him go, not liking it when he smoked, and was fast asleep before he returned, and she didn't feel or notice it when he laid down a blacked-out Marissa beside her.

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**A.N.**: Please review! I think I'll update chapter six as well, maybe seven, but I'm only on to the edited chapter ten… I'd better get a-workin'.


	7. Map of Tahiti

**A.N.**: Thank you for the responses to this story. I'm still working on it, editing old chapters to streamline the story. Please keep positive reviews coming, and I'll keep writing. Okay, so, this is my take on how Lily's presence in the Cohen house would affect things, particularly Kirsten's reaction to the boys getting into a fight.

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**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_06_

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Having caught up a little on sleep the night before, Lily woke as early as she usually did, a little disoriented, wondering firstly where she was, for the second time, and then…why that Marissa girl was snoring on the bed beside her, her makeup smeared, reeking of vodka and…sick.

Frowning at the snoring girl, Lily tried to put two and two together and make four, but she was missing one of the variables; either she had come over to the pool-house for a late-night booty-call with Ryan…or else she'd lost her house-keys and had come to crash in the pool-house until her parents unlocked the doors in the morning.

Either way, Lily slipped out of bed, completely puzzled; she paused by Ryan, who had taken the cushions for a garden-lounger as his bed with a blanket, while Seth was sprawled, on his back, skinny limbs at every angle as he rasped in his sleep. Ryan's new black-eye, gift from last night, glowed like a beacon, and as she crept past Seth, she saw the hideous purplish-fuchsia bruise on the side of his face.

Used to Ryan coming home late after a party, she knew his ritual after a heavy night was to sleep late, then consume a cooked breakfast full of carbohydrates to soak up whatever he'd drunk the night before. Having learned to cook through necessity, exploring ancient textbooks Dawn had probably never cracked open, and alternating at the diner between working in the kitchen or waiting tables, Lily wanted to do something nice for the Cohen family, to say thank you for their hospitality the past two days, and knowing as she did that Mr Cohen would probably have to take them either home or to Child Services in the next few days, she knew her and Ryan's time here was running short.

She slipped out of bed, fumbling for a change of clothing in her duffel-bag, and cloistered herself up in the bathroom, not before noticing that someone had brought the bags from _Sephora_, _J Crew_ _Abercrombie_ and _Victoria's Secret_ into the house from Mrs Cohen's bedroom, placing them by the sofa. She snuck into the bathroom, putting her hair up in a shower-cap she found in its original box in one of the console drawers, obviously acquired, as the miniature bottles of shampoo and shower-gel and wrapped soaps were, from hotel bathrooms.

She did a double-take when she exited the bathroom, dressed in her jeans, a fresh, baby-soft and threadbare grey t-shirt, the black lace bandeau bra and her boots; the bed was empty. Either that Marissa girl had woken at the sound of the shower and slipped out, or Lily had had some kind of reaction to the fabric-softener the Cohen family used on their bedclothes and had been seeing things. She guessed it was the former; that Marissa had slipped out while there was nobody to catch her and ask what was going on. She carefully folded her pyjamas, tucking her clothes from yesterday into the duffel, her sullied clothing into one of the end pockets of the bag, and made her way out of the pool-house, leaving the boys to sleep off the fun they'd had last night.

Used to her own daily routine, Lily went outside and found the day's newspaper wrapped up and dumped on the front-step; she walked down the driveway, noticing that the Range Rover was missing, and brought in the Cohens' mail from the mailbox at the end of the driveway. She made her way back to the kitchen through the formal sitting-room, which also featured a small at-home office area for Mrs Cohen, with a corner for her dedicated to a leather-topped Louis-style desk, a curved _Eames_ armchair and footstool upholstered with a zigzag _Missoni_ print, and several art-pieces; a long table spanning the back of one of the white sofas was topped with framed photographs, stacks of books on art and architecture, and a very elegant black leather briefcase. The little office-area was incredibly beautiful, set against a backdrop of sun-illuminated white sheers, the panorama of the infinity-pool and the endless sky beyond, and Lily found a red pen in a pen-pot by the cordless phone cradle, and made her way into the kitchen.

Waiting for the time to reach eight-thirty so she could start preparing breakfast, Lily sat at the blue stone-top table, her bare toes sifting through the tufts of the crimson rug. Tugging the newspaper out of its bag, she straightened out the different sections, searching for the classifieds, and started sifting through the job and real-estate advertisements. When the little clock on its easel on the sideboard ticked to half-past eight, she neatly outlined an advertisement for an elementary-level math tutor for the summer, removed the newspapers from the table, setting them at the far end of the island, before setting the table for breakfast.

Mrs Cohen's kitchen was the stuff of dreams; each pot and pan was beautifully polished, the copper ones glowing golden-rose in the sunshine, the coffee-machine already on and spreading the scent of rich roasted coffee grounds through the downstairs. Someone had left a bottle of water out on the side, and a coffee-cup in the sink; Lily carefully raided the refrigerator for eggs, bacon, milk, fruit, tomatoes and started preparing breakfast. In her house, the refrigerator was full if there were leftovers, milk, eggs and butter, and a box of cereal. The Cohens' refrigerator was filled to bursting with sodas, _Starbucks_ Frapuccinos, _Izze_ sparkling juices, _Arizona_ Ice Teas, _Gatorades_, bottled sparkling water, a half bottle of red wine, as well as a whole lot of fruit, vegetables, sealed foil packets of fish, baggies of artisan cheeses, packets of cured hams and salamis, leftover pastries, a few candy-bars, numerous bottles of salad-dressing, tubes of yoghurt, _Thaiphoon_ takeout cartons and different dips and hummus, pots of chocolate mousse and crème-caramel. There was enough food in there to feed her family for three months.

Outside, behind the pool-house on the edge of the Cohens' property, Lily had spied a large fig tree and several grapefruit and orange trees; with a bowl, she went out into the garden, picked two grapefruits, a few oranges, and a handful of figs. Figs were one of the only things Lily liked about her home in Chino; there was an ancient tree in the backyard, home to several racoons, but every morning she would have a fig with the rest of her breakfast, or she would take a few to work for a healthy snack to keep her going. She loved them ripe, drizzled with honey and salt, or with balsamic vinegar. Or, if she had the time, she had figs on toast; that was the ultimate luxury.

She mixed batter for pancakes with a wooden spoon, and let it rest while she cut up the oranges, halving the grapefruits, and, after cutting several up and revealing a gorgeously fuchsia centre to the figs, snacked on a segment and arranged the rest on a plate drizzled with honey, with the tub of fruity, nutty granola, the pot of natural Greek yoghurt, sucking on a slice of orange as she fried rashers of bacon, cutting up tomatoes to fry in the same pan as the scrambled eggs, and after arranging some orange slices and halves of toast on the edge of five plates, she set them out on the island, started doing the washing-up, and had the kitchen tidied up before she started ladling pancake batter onto the flat griddle.

"Sandy?" a voice cooed, and Lily glanced up as Mrs Cohen stopped in the archway to the formal sitting-room; she did a double-take, her mouth falling open in a little O. "Oh my—!"

"M-m-Morning," Lily said quietly, and Mrs Cohen gave a little start.

"Morning, sweetie," Mrs Cohen said, eyes still wide. She was half-smiling as she glanced around the kitchen, to the spread on the table. "What's all this?"

"I j-just…wanted t-to d-do something t-to say—thank you," Lily said, shrugging slightly.

"You didn't have to do all this," Mrs Cohen smiled warmly, gazing at the spread on the table. Lily glanced at her evenly.

"Neither did you," she said quietly, and Mrs Cohen gave her a quiet, thoughtful look.

"Wow," she said softly, catching sight of something on the table. "Hey, you used some of the figs!"

"I d-didn't know what everybody likes," Lily said, glancing at Mrs Cohen uncertainly. "So I th-thought I'd d-do a selection."

"We've got two teenaged boys for breakfast," Mrs Cohen chuckled. "I'm sure it'll all get eaten. But neither Sandy nor myself like figs, which is a shame; that huge tree just goes to waste. Although, we should probably send a bag over to Garrett. I'm so glad he's home for the rest of the summer. Seth's been pouting." The mention of Seth, and Garrett, had Lily thinking, frowning thoughtfully as she carefully flipped three pancakes.

"Mrs C-c-Cohen?" Lily said, glancing up at the svelte older lady, who had discovered the tea Lily had made with her fine gold-rimmed tea-set on the table, and poured herself and Lily a cup; she smiled as she handed Lily the second.

"Mm?" Mrs Cohen smiled over the rim of her teacup, leaning against the island and watching Lily scramble the eggs, watching the frying tomatoes.

"Is Seth…b-b-b-bullied? At school, I m-mean?" Lily asked, and Mrs Cohen stood up a little straighter, frowning subtly.

"Why do you ask?" she said. Lily licked her lips and sighed softly.

"At th-the p-p-party last n-night, some b-b-boys were p-p-picking on Seth," Lily said; she thought it better she prepare Mrs Cohen now for the enormous bruise on the side of her only son's face before he could schmooze in and surprise her. "Th-they had him d-dangling upside-down in m-midair." Mrs Cohen lowered her teacup, looking appalled.

"Is he okay?" she blurted fearfully, eyes wide. Lily nodded.

"Ryan and Garrett…stood up for him," she said. "B-b-but Seth has a b-b-bruise on his face, here," she said, indicating the right-side of her face where Seth had been struck. "I th-thought I should l-let you know b-before you see him."

"Where are the boys?" Mrs Cohen asked curiously, glancing around. "You got back after Sandy and I went to bed."

"W-we went t-to the p-p-p—_little_-house, so we d-didn't wake you," Lily said, and Mrs Cohen smiled understandingly.

"So is there a reason why you're cooking all these carbohydrates?" Mrs Cohen smirked subtly, and Lily glanced at the pancakes she was dishing up onto a plate, ladling out more.

"Th-the b-boys had fun last n-night," Lily said, glancing at Mrs Cohen from the corner of her eye, and Mrs Cohen chuckled.

"I remember those days," she sighed. "Can't say I miss the hangovers. You seem to be doing okay."

"I d-don't like t-to drink with strangers," Lily said quietly, and Mrs Cohen nodded.

"That's a good way to be," Mrs Cohen smiled softly. "Do you need any help?"

"Um… N-no, thank you," Lily said, glancing at the older lady. "I j-just have t-to finish these p-p-p_ancakes_, and I c-can dish up." Mrs Cohen nodded, sipping her tea, and looked like she didn't quite know what to do with herself, unused to being waited on in her own home. She caught sight of the newspaper classifieds, frowned, and looked closer.

"What's all this?" Mrs Cohen asked, glancing from Lily to the spread of classifieds and note-paper she had been working calculations on. "Are these job ads?" Mrs Cohen asked, leaning closer, glancing from the paper to Lily.

"I th-thought I should m-make a p-plan," Lily said, and Mrs Cohen raised her eyebrows, looking highly surprised. "There are a…lot of j-jobs—going." The classifieds in her area of Chino weren't even an eighth the size of the classified section in the _Orange County Register_. Mrs Cohen set her teacup down and leaned against the island, her pale eyes scanning the paper, particularly the sections Lily had highlighted with red pen.

"Florists, restaurants, a bookstore," Mrs Cohen murmured, half to herself. She glanced at Lily. "These are mostly full-time jobs. Why are you looking through the classifieds?"

"I'll have to start…saving up—money as soon…as I—can," Lily said quietly. She reread the tutoring advertisement she had seen and highlighted it.

"Oh," Mrs Cohen said softly, glancing from Lily to the classifieds with wide eyes. She licked her lips and glanced up. "If you need anything, Sandy's office is just the other side of the living-room; he's got plenty of stationery."

"Thank you," Lily said quietly. Mrs Cohen sighed.

"How about I go get the boys," Mrs Cohen suggested, after an awkward moment, and Lily nodded.

"Careful," she said after Mrs Cohen, who laughed as she sauntered to the French doors out onto the patio. Keeping the cooked pancakes warm under the grill, Lily used up the last of the batter with two large pancakes and a handful of little _pikelets_, and when Mr Cohen appeared, dressed in board-shorts and a faded black t-shirt, his hair wet but combed, a pair of expensive dark sunglasses shielding his eyes, Lily started to dish up the breakfasts, separating the bacon, tomatoes, scrambled-eggs and pancakes between the five plates.

"_Wow_!" Mr Cohen grinned. "Full cooked breakfast when I get back from surfing! Lily, you're spoiling me!" As he helped take the loaded plates over to the table, Mr Cohen grinned, "I could get used to it." Lily smiled, setting down her plates, and as Mrs Cohen ushered two staggering shadows into the kitchen from the patio, Seth moaned.

"_Food_," he moaned, going a little pale.

"Well, hello, Sleeping Boozy!" Mr Cohen crowed loudly, laughing at the sight of his son, and Seth winced, swaying, as Mrs Cohen guided him to a seat at the table. "Kirsten, go get the camera; it's Seth's first hangover!"

"Actually, I think I'm still a little bit really drunk," Seth said, hiding his eyes behind his hands, shielding them from the sun. "Who made all this food?" Seth moaned, sinking into his seat; Ryan, his shirt on and his black-eye shining, pushed a cup of coffee in front of Seth, downing a good half of his glass of orange-juice in one.

"Lily," Mrs Cohen smiled. As Lily sat down, Seth turned to glare at her incredulously.

"Okay, tell me why you don't look at all like you're sharing this monster hangover," Seth said, and Lily smiled, offering Mr Cohen the bottle of maple syrup; he had consumed his half of a grapefruit like a vacuum, and now sat chuckling at his son.

"Have some pancakes, you'll feel better," Mr Cohen said, still laughing. "It'll soak up some of that beer. So," Mr Cohen grinned, polishing off his last pancake and making a start on some fruit. "By the hangovers, and those black-eyes, I'm guessing last night was a pretty hip party."

"Okay, Dad, '_hip_'?" Seth remarked, staring at his father, and Mr Cohen chuckled.

"I think it's 'rad'," Mrs Cohen piped up, delicately eating her way through some granola and fruit. Seth sat between them, shaking his head embarrassedly. "Or was it 'dope'?"

"My god," Seth sighed, shaking his head. "This is painful, you realise." Trying to load the dishwasher when they had cleared the table—Ryan and Seth both consumed whatever was in front of them—Seth lost his equilibrium and nearly toppled onto the neatly-arranged plates and bowls, and it was with a deep, continuous chuckle that Mr Cohen sent his only son upstairs to sleep off his hangover.

While Seth put things away, Lily licked her lips and sighed, eyeing the red squares marked around various classifieds and reached for the legal pad Mrs Cohen had set down on the island for her to use; she uncapped a pen and placed the cap on the end, smoothed the first page of the legal pad and started to make calculations; she calculated the monthly wage for several of the jobs that offered over eleven dollars fifty an hour, and on a fresh sheet wrote down the addresses of several rental properties in the 'numbered' streets and the phone-numbers of the landlords; on another sheet, she calculated thirty dollars each a month each for water, gas and electric, ten dollars for a phone-line, plus twenty-five dollars for insurance, and four-hundred dollars a month for rent. If she worked five eight-hour days a week, she could earn eighteen-hundred and forty dollars a month; thirteen hundred and fifteen dollars of that money would go on rent and utilities. And those were general calculations, based on her experience, paying her mother's bills.

She folded the classified section, putting it together with the sheaves of legal-pad paper, and when she glanced up, she knew Mr and Mrs Cohen had talked; this was their home, and bringing home his work, in his occupation, wasn't the safest of hobbies for Mr Cohen to indulge; his first party, his first fight, his first hangover, Lily wasn't surprised that Mrs Cohen seemed to endorse her husband's slightly put-out sigh that he should take them back home, "See if I can't talk to your mother."

Lily didn't want to go home. It wasn't that she was naïve enough to think that the Cohens would let her stay here, or that they would do something selfless and miraculous and ask her and Ryan to live with them, but in the few brief hours she and Ryan had spent in Newport Beach, they had received so much more support and care than the last few years with Dawn. She didn't want to go back to Chino, back to her mother: young as she was in age, she wasn't a _young_ girl; she had been taking care of herself and her family for too long to still claim she didn't know what was best for her. She knew that being back in that house, especially after seeing the way the Cohens lived and treated each other, with kindness, affection and respect, was going to be…horrendous. Seeing what the Cohens had, Lily wanted it; she wanted their security, their mutual respect and affection, a safe place to live… One way or the other, she knew she couldn't stay in her mother's home, and she knew Ryan didn't want to either. They hadn't really spoken since Friday afternoon, but Ryan wasn't really much of a talker, neither was she; they understood each other's tells on a minute level. Had to, to communicate anything, given her severe speech-impediment.

"Hang on, you're making them go back?" Seth grunted, scowling as he tilted toward the island, resting against one of the stools.

"We should probably go back home…try and figure things out," Ryan said, glancing at Seth; Lily avoided answering, thinking quickly.

"Well…cool," Seth said, looking sad, and Mrs Cohen shot her son a thoughtful, regretful glance, looking almost guilty as she tidied up a few things in the refrigerator. "Or not cool, but you know…what I think I mean. Maybe, I don't know, I can come down to Chino, you can show me your home, or '_hood'_ or you know what I think I mean." He smiled adorably and glanced at Lily, his smile turning sad.

"I'll go get cleaned up, and we can head out," Mr Cohen smiled. "Seth, head up to bed, alright, sleep off that headache."

Ryan offered his hand to shake, but Seth just mumbled, "Come here," and reached in to hug him. Looking stunned, Ryan froze, but gradually warmed to him. Seth turned to Lily next; she was more prepared than Ryan had been to receive the hug, but it was still…strange. Strange and unusual…but nice. Lily couldn't remember being hugged like this…but Seth was so nonthreatening, so sweet.

There was a strange and beautiful naïveté in Seth mixed with his punishing dark wit. He was sheltered and sharp-tongued, and _fun_. He spoke too quickly and too much, he mumbled, and he projected zero physical confidence. In short, he was adorable. Lily would regret losing the opportunity to get to know him better. He seemed sweet and self-conscious and _smart_, and unlike anybody she had ever really known. He was so…_optimistic_.

While she wanted a better life, to get out of her mother's neighbourhood, to _not_ turn out like her mother or dad or eldest brother, she knew that any opportunity she had of succeeding in her dream was like winning the lottery, and with her family's luck, well, it was about as achievable as Seth getting Summer to go to Tahiti with him next summer.

"Thanks for this weekend," Seth said quietly, still hugging Lily. "I won't ever forget you guys." A little startled by Seth's honesty and wistfulness, his sadness, Lily hugged him back a little tighter, sighing, and Seth released her.

"Wait…just wait, one sec," Seth said, shuffling around the kitchen island. "There's something I want you guys to have." And he shuffled off, out of sight; they heard him moaning as he mounted the stairs, and while Lily put the granola away in the cupboard, straightening out the coffee-cups, they waited for Seth to return. He did so, wearing what appeared to be a pair of his mother's oversize black sunglasses, and winced and keeled onto the nearest stool, handing Lily a creased map. A yacht sailed over frosted waves, its sails bowed with a strong breeze, and 'Pacific Ocean' was written above it. Lily turned it over, reading the names of maps—Tahiti, Honolulu, Fiji.

"It's pretty good for ideas," Seth said quietly. Lily passed the map to Ryan, who looked it over, a strange smile quirking the corners of his mouth. Sailing to Tahiti. Lily would have loved the opportunity and means to do that. She sighed, uncomfortable about the atmosphere in the kitchen and wistful about missed potential opportunities. She could see herself friends with Seth. He was so sweet and naïve and endearing… And that Garrett boy, with his beautiful blue eyes, his battered truck and casual attitude, that _voice_, well…

She would always remember the money he had spotted her for that game of poker, scheming against his own friends to give her a leg up with money he knew she and Ryan needed if they could have any chance of a better start.

That money… Combined with what she'd had in emergency cash, saved up, she had over four and a half thousand dollars in cash. She knew she needed to put it in her checking-account, in which she had a little over four-thousand dollars, and she knew her latest pay-cheques would be going through sometime this week… That was more than a little breathing-room for the immediate future. If she could find a few jobs, a small apartment…

She had left home because Dawn had kicked Ryan out in a drunken rage; but she had been planning to leave for a long time beforehand, and would continue to dream of leaving at least until she turned eighteen, but hopefully before.

She unfolded the map Ryan had passed back to her, and skimmed her fingertip over the little spots that were tropical islands near New Zealand… She knew _The Blue Lagoon_ had been filmed in Fiji. And she did _love_ that movie.

Maybe she could move to the beach, learn to sail, sail away, find a tiny desert island and just _live_. No phones, no electricity, no alcohol—just fresh fish, grilled on a little beach-fire; she'd build a hut and spend her days swimming and gathering fruit… She smiled to herself, folding the map back up again. A girl could dream.

But she couldn't do that if she was forced to stay in Dawn's house, forced to provide for a four-member family while she still hadn't even yet reached her sixteenth birthday because nobody else had the presence of mind or conviction to do it.

She went back to the pool-house with Ryan. For a little while, while Ryan packed his overnight bag and tidied up the bathroom, Lily sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on her knees, and she watched the sun dappled on the shopping-bags Mrs Cohen had filled with pretty things for Lily. For a moment, she contemplated packing the things Mrs Cohen had bought, but she had felt guilty enough putting on the strapless lace bandeau bra this morning, no matter if Mrs Cohen couldn't find a use for it. She went through her things, tucking the wad of cash in another hiding-place, and pulled her TARDIS lunch-box toward her, carefully making sure it was the right way up before opening it. Inside it were her treasures, and her and Ryan's paperwork; their passports and birth-certificates, medical record books kept since they were born; there were photographs, and odds and ends from Lily's childhood that fit into the box, mementos from weddings and christening parties, her favourite books, photograph negatives, an emergency candy-bar, an ancient bracelet, bank-statements, the set of pink pearl earrings her grandmother had willed to her, a spare set of batteries, recipes and other things that were precious to her. There was also a fuchsia journal made from recycled leather and ivory paper.

She pulled out the journal, with the pen she kept in the lunch-box, turning to the last-used page and neatly wrote down the exact amount of money she had won in the poker-game last night, tallying up her new total, adding the new total of cash she had to her name to the contents of her debit checking-account. Writing down that Dawn had kicked Ryan out of the house on Friday, after having been arrested for being an accomplice in a car-theft, that AJ had hit Ryan, she tucked the journal back into her lunch-box, latched it and took a deep breath for strength before standing up, taking hold of her lunch-box, and made her way back to the house.

Mr Cohen was in the kitchen, tucking his car-keys into his jeans pocket, and he glanced up, doing a quick search of her, noticing that she wasn't carrying the rest of her luggage. "Mr C-c-Cohen, m-may I t-talk to you about something?"

"Sure, sweetie," Mr Cohen said, standing up a little straighter, more alert. "What do you need?" Fiddling with the handle of her lunch-box, Lily took a breath, and said steadily, "I'd like to become emancipated."

Whether it was her statement, or the fact that she had said it with no trace of stammer, Mr Cohen stared at her. Obviously taken aback, he blinked quickly several times, before his thick eyebrows rose. "Okay, uh, why don't we go into my office? Maybe Ryan can call your mom while we're having a chat, let her know we're on our way?" When Ryan returned, Mr Cohen handed him the landline, suggesting Ryan call their mother, and he led Lily to his home-office.

Mr Cohen's office was a larger, more masculine version of Mrs Cohen's little work-area in the sitting-room. The chief decorations were a glossy surfboard leaning against the wall by the windows overlooking the driveway, a framed magazine called '_Revolution_' and a low cabinet filled with vinyl records. Mr Cohen gestured at the comfortable-looking sofa, so she sat down, and she saw a lot of files and folders spread on Mr Cohen's desk, from which he selected a few and brought his desk-chair around to sit on, and she had the sudden déjà vu of sitting in her guidance-counsellor's office at school.

"So, when Ryan called and told me what happened, I pulled your file," Mr Cohen said, flipping open a slender manila folder. "Haven't looked at it yet, but let me just have a look, and we can have a chat." With a pen, Mr Cohen went down Lily's file. "Lily, you're only fifteen?" he said, frowning up at her bemusedly. Lily nodded.

"I'll t-turn sixteen l-late this…August," she said quietly. Mr Cohen frowned, sitting back against the plush leather of the sofa and sighing deeply.

"You know, I thought you and Ryan were twins," he said.

"Th-there are only ten m-months between us," Lily said, her cheeks flushing. She had been born five weeks prematurely, and she knew that the gap between her and Ryan was almost indecently slim. "I was born nearly six weeks early."

"Your school records say you're going into junior year," he said, looking over another folder, which, Lily noticed when she leaned forward, was filled with her school transcripts, dating all the way back to kindergarten, when she'd received honourable mention for her good behaviour, sweet temper and penchant for making friends with children others in her class had shunned because of differences. Mr Cohen glanced up. "How'd that work?"

"My m-m-mom had to start w-working full-time when she had…three child-children to…t-take care of, so s-she and my dad just d-decided to r-register me in the same class as R-Ryan," Lily said. One of the only good things her parents had ever done for her; when she had tried escaping from the house and Ryan kept getting into trouble at school, they had just decided that separating them just wasn't worth the trouble, so Lily was registered in the same kindergarten class as her older brother. She was so well-behaved it had never been an issue, and she was considerably smarter than anyone she'd ever met.

Mr Cohen nodded and scanned the rest of the file. "Well, I gotta tell you…" He glanced up, and he was smiling. "I'm _very _impressed, Lily. Despite everything, you've got consecutive four-point-oh grade-point-averages; honour roll, principal's list, and it says here you're head of the student tutoring programme…" He scanned the folder again and stopped, glancing up and looking stunned. He glanced up, staring.

"A perfect 2400 score on your college SAT test?" he said. Lily felt her face warm and shrugged awkwardly. Mr Cohen grinned subtly, as if surprised and delighted to find himself surprised by her intelligence. "You know, I read some figures a while ago; in 2009, only 297 students out of 1.5 _million_ received a perfect SAT score. I'm guessing the figure hasn't changed much since then… But you're not a junior yet; how'd you take the SAT test?"

"M-my school guidance counsel-counsellor suggested I should d-do it," Lily said quietly. Mr Cohen sat back in his seat, watching her, and Lily realised he wanted her to expand. "Some of m-my teachers said I have 'extra-extraordinary academic p-p-_promise'_ and recommended…me for…advanced p-p-placement and honour classes. I b-bought an SAT p-p-prep book in freshman-year and studied for it a little b-bit every n-night until this spring."

"So, you're thinking about college?" Mr Cohen guessed. Lily shrugged.

"I don't kno-know to d-do w-_what_ just yet, or where, but I know I w-want to get out…of Chino," Lily said. Mr Cohen smiled at her.

"Well, you have exceptional grades, you've got a lot of advanced-placement classes, a considerable amount of extra-curricular interests, and taking into account the quality of your school district, your SAT scores show that you're genuinely an extremely intelligent girl," Mr Cohen said. "Put all of this together, you're well on your way to an academic scholarship." Lily rubbed her arm anxiously. All of what Mr Cohen had said was possible was dependent on her staying in school. "Which has to make me wonder…just how bad is it at home that at fifteen, you're considering emancipation?"

"I, uh… I k-keep records," Lily said, bringing out her lunch-box.

"Is that a TARDIS lunch-box?" Mr Cohen asked quietly, arching an eyebrow and giving a subtle grin. Lily nodded, unclipping the lid, and brought her journal, her neatly-bound bank statements and her cheque-book.

"It's where I k-k-keep all my important things," Lily said, glancing at Mr Cohen. "I have m-m-mine and Ryan's medical…records. And birth-certificates and…p-p-passports. B-b-but I…saw a p-p-_public_ defender in…Chino—a while ago…and he said I have t-to be over f-fourteen f-for the c-c-courts to even c-consider emancipation. He said the c-court would l-look into Dawn, so I started keeping records."

Mr Cohen set her file on his desk, gently lifting the TARDIS lunch-box to sit down on the sofa beside her, and she opened her journal. "All th-the things that D-d-Dawn has d-done…how many t-times I've had t-to p-pay the b-bills… And th-the P-p-p-P.D. said I have t-to p-p-prove th-that I c-can t-take care of myself f-f-financially… So I've g-got all my b-bank-statements and m-my cheque-book and…I k-k-keep a separate ledger t-to include my c-c-cash…which I n-need to deposit t-to my account…"

Mr Cohen took her journal, frowning as he went through a few of the entries Lily had made. She had also put down her work shifts, the diner, the florist, the movie-theatre and her lifeguarding, how much she earned from each, and what the money went towards, how much she had put into savings, and she had noted whenever Dawn had been laid off, or given money to AJ, and how much her mother spent on booze each week instead of on groceries.

"Mr C-Cohen," Lily said quietly, and he glanced up, his brow heavy. "I know I'm…still j-just a… k-kid, on p-p-_paperwork_… But I've l-lived with D-d-Dawn and Trey long enough t-to…realise w-what's good for m-me and w-what isn't—and what's good for R-r-Ryan, too."

"And that's not living with your family?" Mr Cohen said quietly. Lily sighed softly, fiddling with her fingers.

"D-d-Dawn married young," she said quietly, "and…my d-dad was rough on her when h-he lost his j-job…and T-t-Trey p-p-put her through a l-lot when he was Ryan's age b-because he was…angry about—our dad. Th-that ruined things f-for me and—for Ryan, she still hasn't…recovered—from handling the t-trouble Trey caused her…" Lily sighed, tired. Just thinking about Dawn was exhausting. "She won't g-get help…we've asked her." She glanced up at Mr Cohen, biting the inside of her lip. "B-but while she's…trying to take c-care of us, she's n-not focusing on helping h-herself. I…th-think if…we're…removed from—the situation, D-d-Dawn c-can start…getting better."

Speaking to strangers was so much worse than speaking to Ryan, particularly because she rarely spoke to Ryan, either. Strangers looked at her like she was mentally handicapped, when she wasn't. She _wasn't_; she was the smartest student at school, the hardest worker at her various jobs—she read James Joyce and Tolstoy and devoured Shakespeare. She was very smart, very hard-working, just…couldn't talk.

"So you wanna get emancipated," Mr Cohen said, his frown heavy. Something was going on behind those dark-navy eyes; by his expression, Lily thought he didn't perhaps approve of a fifteen-year-old girl behaving like a full-grown adult. But Lily had been for nearly two years already, and what she wanted was to behave like an adult who could take care of herself, who didn't have anybody else she had to look after. She was too young to be taking care of her flaky alcoholic mother, too old to think her family was normal and healthy for each other to be around.

"I th-think it would be…b-best f-for all of us," Lily said honestly. With Trey removed from the situation, that was one less external factor playing with Ryan's head; removing them from Chino, that would remove Ryan from a few others, and getting away from Dawn would open up opportunities for Lily she would otherwise lose by being the sole dependable, financially-stable member of the family. "I'd…l-like maybe t-to stay in N-new-Newport Beach." Mr Cohen glanced up, eyebrows raised.

"Stay here?" he asked.

"I w-went through the r-rental p-p-_properties_ available," Lily said quietly, her cheeks warming under Mr Cohen's slightly disbelieving stare; she unfolded the classifieds, showing him the properties she had outlined, and brought out the legal-pad she had been doing her calculations on. "I h-have more th-than enough to p-p-pay first and l-l-last-month's rent and I've b-been looking f-for j-jobs available." She showed Mr Cohen the advertisements for help-wanted she had outlined. "Th-there are a f-few th-that I can p-put applications in for." Mr Cohen sighed heavily, examining the want-ads, the calculations she had done, her journal.

It was difficult for Lily to speak; she had had a severe stammer for years—almost as long as her father had been in jail. She hadn't spoken so much in such a long time, and found it so difficult to speak in the first place, that having a whole conversation with Mr Cohen like this…sent her reeling. But she had to do it, and he was patient with her; he didn't bark for her to enunciate or hurry up, agitating her stammer even more in her anxiousness; he _listened_, and didn't react to what she said the way Trey or her mother or AJ would have.

"As your attorney… I'd say perhaps this is the wisest move for you," Mr Cohen said, glancing at Lily. "Everything I know about your situation, Ryan's arrest, your mother kicking you out of the house…"

"B-but?" Lily prompted, smiling sadly.

"But, as a _parent_…" Mr Cohen sighed, glancing at her and holding her eye. "You're fifteen years old. You're way too young to be thinking about rent and health-insurance and pulling double-shifts." Lily wished that were true; she had been doing it for such a long time now, she couldn't remember not having multiple jobs, not paying the bills, not doing the grocery-shopping and preparing meals. Lily sighed softly, feeling suddenly far more tired than she had when she woke.

"If I…if I h-had p-p-parents l-like you and Mrs C-c-Cohen—I wouldn't…have t-to m-make up the—rules…as I g-go along," Lily said, glancing through the open door into the sitting-room, to Mrs Cohen's work-area. "Either way, I won't b-be spending m-much more t-time in my m-m-mother's house."

Mr Cohen sighed heavily. Torn between what was best for Lily and what was legally suitable for his client, having spent a little more time with her than he usually did with his clients, she knew she had posed a dilemma for Mr Cohen. But Lily knew what she wanted, and what was best for her; whether she emancipated herself legally or ran away, she wasn't staying in her mother's house; if it wasn't Mr Cohen, she would seek help from the public-defender she had spoken to in Chino.

"I tell you what, let's see what Ryan says, maybe he got hold of your mom," Mr Cohen said. "Maybe I can have a talk with her, see if we can't sort something out." Lily didn't like the sound of that, but she was a fifteen-year-old girl with only her attorney's advice to go on. She knew no amount of talking would get Dawn to sober up and start taking care of her children; but she didn't want to seem ungrateful for Mr Cohen having taken her and Ryan in for the weekend, when nobody else had given them the time of day.

Lily put her paperwork back into her TARDIS lunch-box, a little put-out by the lack of direction her conversation with Mr Cohen had given her with regards to her desire for emancipation, but she didn't want to seem ungrateful for him taking the time to talk to her at all, and so she followed him out of the office into the kitchen, where Ryan stood with the home-phone held to his ear, scowling deeply.

"I, uh, I can't get through," he said, glancing up from the corner of his eye as he saw them enter the kitchen. "The phone's been disconnected."

"That c-c-can't be, I p-p-paid that bill l-last week," Lily stammered, staring at Ryan.

"Maybe Mrs Diaz will be able to go check on the house," Ryan sighed, punching a number into the phone quickly. The Diaz family had been close with Lily's since they had moved in, years ago; Trey and Arturo, the same age and with the same love of cars, had fallen in together very quickly. Theresa, the beautiful Hispanic girl-next-door, had caught Ryan's eye the moment they both turned sixteen. Lily, a little younger and very quiet, had tended to tag along whenever the two weren't hanging out alone, and they had a lot of fun together. But Mrs Diaz usually had a couch empty for them to crash on if they needed it, or invited them over for dinner if she had heard Dawn screaming at her boyfriend of the moment. Mrs Diaz was a hard worker, and supported her two children alone since the death of her husband, and it was hard for her; Arturo and Theresa both picked up whatever casual work they could, to help out, but Mrs Diaz wanted Theresa at least to put her education first for as long as she could.

Before Lily had met the Diaz family, she had thought all families were like hers—aggressive, alcoholic, prone to violent outbursts of temper and brutal beatings; she had thought every little girl hid under her bed when she heard her parents shouting, her brother curled up beside her, clutching a little toy car Trey promised one day they'd buy and fix up together, get out and move on…

"Hey, Mrs Diaz—yeah, it's Ryan," Ryan said into the phone, a moment later, and Lily fiddled with the handle of her lunch-box while Mr Cohen watched on as Ryan spoke with their neighbour. "I, uh, I'm trying to get a hold of my mom… Whaddaya mean, am I with her? No. She kicked me and Lily out Friday afternoon…" Ryan's eyes turned sharp, then faraway, and he stared out of the window. "What do you mean, empty?" Lily glanced up sharply, frowning at Ryan. Their house was empty? "The whole house…?"

"What's going on?" Mr Cohen asked solemnly, watching Ryan acutely.

"Uh… I don't know," Ryan said into the phone, avoiding Mr Cohen's eyes as a flush of humiliation rose in Ryan's cheeks. "No, I… He's staying inside for a while… Yeah. So you haven't heard from her? She didn't even say goodbye? Where she was going? No, yeah, I'll…take care…" Ryan hung up the phone a moment later, frowning in confusion.

"What's happened?" Mr Cohen prompted quietly.

"I, uh…called our next-door neighbour," Ryan said, glancing up at Mr Cohen, blinking quickly. "She says she tried to go see our mom yesterday, but the house was cleared out."

"Cleared out?" Mr Cohen blurted, his eyebrows rising sharply.

"Apparently, Mom left without a word… I don't know how to get her," Ryan admitted. Lily stood at the island, fiddling with her lunch-box, and…

Shame and humiliation stole over her as Mr Cohen locked eyes on her, in that brief glance letting on just how much he understood what kind of a family she and Ryan had, that their mother would rather kick them out of the house and disappear into the oblivion when she thought it was safe to skip out with them out of the picture, rather than be a mother and deal with everything she had put their family through—everything she and Trey had done to Lily and Ryan. Mr Cohen stared at her, shocked incredulity and the most humiliating kind of sympathy emanating from his dark navy eyes.

Why Mr Cohen should look hurt, Lily didn't know.

She stared back at him, hurt and betrayal and more heartbreak than she would have anticipated filling her, and more tears burned her eyes as the shock of her mother's desertion hit her.

She was gone. Dawn was gone. Mrs Diaz thought it was a sin to lie; she wouldn't say their house was empty if it wasn't.

Lily had been wishing for something like this since she was nine years old, but facing it, finding it had become a reality, that her mother hated them, hated her, so much that she couldn't even…couldn't even stand to have them in the same house, had run away the moment she no longer had them to think about…

All the times her mother had threatened to just…pack up and disappear… She had made those threats before, whenever Trey had come home escorted by the cops or Ryan had gotten into trouble at school—she would get drunk, and shout, and threaten that one day she was just going to snap and walk out and never come back.

Lily had never thought she actually meant it. She'd thought… She'd thought that even though her dad hadn't been able to take care of them, that Dawn loved them at least enough to stick around…or at least stick around because she knew she couldn't take care of herself, and relied on her children to do it for her.

Mr Cohen disappeared an hour later. Lily thought he was driving to Chino, maybe to check Mrs Diaz' testimony was true, or perhaps to see if he could find Dawn Atwood and metaphorically smack some sense into her—or at least give her a good legal scare.

He left Lily and Ryan in Newport Beach: Lily wanted to get her bicycle out and start going to visit a few of the properties she had found in the classifieds. Mrs Cohen said they didn't "know how real this is", and didn't want Lily to do anything rash; and despite Mrs Cohen's wisdom in not spending a lot of money prematurely on an apartment without knowing all the facts, Lily was getting antsy. It was the third day in a row where she'd had to do absolutely nothing, and it was telling on her. She was fidgety, and waiting for Mr Cohen to return with the verdict, she was nervous. It didn't help that Seth was still upstairs sleeping off his hangover; Mrs Cohen gave them snacks, and strange _Izze_ sparkling juices, and the television remote-control, but she didn't seem to know what to do with them any more than they did. Waiting for someone to confirm that their mother had packed up and abandoned them wasn't something Lily experienced on a regular basis, and nor was harbouring an abandoned juvenile-delinquent and his speech-impaired sister a normal pastime for Mrs Cohen.

Mrs Cohen teetered by the edge of the island, looking uncertain what she was supposed to do. In her own home, Lily knew it couldn't help the normal flow of her daily schedule to have two unfamiliar teenagers under her watch.

"I have some calls I have to make," Mrs Cohen said uneasily. "Will you two be okay to keep yourselves entertained?"

Lily nodded, and Mrs Cohen nodded, still looking uncomfortable, and Lily knew she was anxious about them being left alone because of Ryan's history of theft—even if it had been a muscle car, not a valuable vase or painting.

"You wanna go for a walk?" he asked quietly. Gazing at her brother, Lily noticed the dark bruise surrounding his eye, the faintly split lip, and nodded. They hadn't had the opportunity to really talk since Mr Cohen had picked them up in Chino.

"We should check—with Mrs C-Cohen…first," Lily said. Ryan followed her into the living-room, where Mrs Cohen was working in a leather file-folder.

"Mrs…Cohen?" Lily said quietly, and the older blonde glanced up, looking a little surprised to see them.

"Hi," she said brightly. "Do you need anything?"

"Actually, uh, we were hoping to go for a walk," Ryan said quietly, and Mrs Cohen glanced between them.

"A walk? It's a hundred and five degrees out," she said, looking stunned. Ryan tilted his head toward Lily.

"She likes the beach," he said.

"Oh, well, sure," Mrs Cohen smiled. "We're the last house on the private beach, so you'll know your way back; just stick to the beach and you won't get lost."

"We won't be…very l-long," Lily said, and Mrs Cohen nodded.

Lily went into the pool-house to get her camera and a spare roll of film, tucking it into the pocket of her little denim shorts, and draping her camera over her head by its thin black strap. She and Ryan retreated back through the house; the blistering heat seared Lily's skin the moment they exited the cool, air-conditioned house, and they made their way down the Cohens' driveway, to the entrance of the little path leading down to the beach.

As the packed earth gave way to sandy dirt, which in turn gave way to glistening golden sands, Ryan slipped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her close to him, and she rested her head against his shoulder as they walked down to the beach. Not usually very physically open, finding out their mother had abandoned them, like their father and Trey effectively had, had taken it out of her, and being with strangers only made her want to be closer to Ryan.

"What're you gonna take pictures of?" Ryan asked, indicating her Leica. Lily sighed.

"I don't k-know yet," she said quietly. They reached the beach, and the _Summer Breeze_ greeted them, some of the ropes and clips clinking melodiously against the mast and the "boom." Set against the backdrop of a cliff to their left and the beach, which wound away like a ribbon of glittering pale-gold, and other beached boats and catamarans like Seth's, the _Summer Breeze_ had excellent lighting and a great shadow cast by the mid-afternoon sun.

She paused to take photographs, playing with the aperture and shutter-speed, to capture the beached _Summer Breeze_ with other tilted masts and a ribbon-like beach behind her. Ryan was patient, as he always was with her photography, glad he wasn't the model, and she put the lens-cap on, secured the camera around her neck and reached for Ryan's hand, which he gave her without even thinking.

When Ryan had asked if she'd wanted to go for a walk, it wasn't to talk; he'd just wanted to get out of the Cohens' house. Just the two of them alone, they weren't being watched or listened out for all the time by an anxious Mrs Cohen, who hadn't wanted them in her home in the first place (probably), and if they had wanted to talk about their mother, or their futures, they could without being wary of being overheard.

"So you like it here, huh," Ryan said, as they wandered down the beach. Lily nodded.

"It's p-peaceful," she said softly, closing her eyes as they wandered on; only the sound of the waves gently lapping her bare ankles disturbed the perfect serenity of the immaculate afternoon; the sky was a rich forget-me-not blue, the clouds—the very few that she could glimpse on the horizon—were fluffy like cotton-candy, and crickets chirped happily, birds swooped and careened around in the air, twittering happily, and the breeze rustled through the dry grasses and wildflowers she paused to capture with her camera, fiddling first with a narrow aperture and slow shutter speed for one picture, and a wide aperture and fast shutter speed for the next.

"You think we could live here?" Ryan prompted.

"I want t-to," Lily said, glancing at her brother. She sighed softly, fiddling with her lens-cap. "I asked Mr C-c-Cohen about…em-em-emancipation." Ryan squinted at her, frowning deeply.

"What, live by yourself?" he asked quietly. Lily sighed and walked on, her toes sifting through the burning sand. She walked a little closer to the water, the wet sand flicking from the tips of her toes as she wandered.

"I l-l-looked through the c-c-classifieds," she said, glancing at Ryan.

"We've been here two whole days," Ryan said, almost weakly. Lily shrugged, eyeing the sand as she wandered. "This isn't the first time you've thought about emancipation, is it?"

"No," Lily answered honestly, but glumly. It wasn't the first time; it was just the first opportunity that she had really had to get things going. If Dawn truly had skipped out the moment she thought her underage kids were out of the picture…that would surely show a judge that Lily had a case for living on her own. Unless she was shipped into foster-care, and that wasn't something she was willing to allow.

Ryan didn't say anything for a little while; they just enjoyed the weather and the water; he hugged her close for a minute, kissed her temple, and released her. Looking at her from the corner of his eye, he quietly said, "You were smiling yesterday."

Lily glanced at him, biting the inside of her lips. "W-was I?"

Ryan nodded silently.

"First time I've seen you smile in a long time," he said quietly, glancing at her. Lily fiddled with her camera, avoiding his knowing gaze, licking her lips.

It wasn't easy. Her life. The staggering feeling of inconsequence and uselessness was sometimes so crippling she had to hide in the bathroom at work and put her face in a sink full of cold water just to calm herself down. But here, with the Cohens—Seth looked at her and really saw her; Mr Cohen listened, _strained_, to hear anything she had to say, and Mrs Cohen, well…she admired the woman, a lady so different from Lily's mother it was painful to compare the two.

"Is it?" she asked quietly. Ryan nodded. For Ryan, a boy who rarely smiled, to note that _she_ hadn't been smiling, well… Ryan tightened the arm he had draped around her shoulders and she stared morosely down at the sand as they meandered along.

"Seth seems cool," Ryan said softly. "You liked being on the boat with him, huh."

"H-he's nice," Lily said quietly. Fiddling with her camera lens-cap, she bit her lip and leaned her head against Ryan's shoulder.

"Yeah, he is," Ryan murmured. They met so few genuinely _nice_ people, particularly with the kinds of people their mother hung around with, that to meet a truly _nice_ person was astonishing to them. They walked on for a little while, just enjoying their closeness and their private solitude, until Ryan sighed, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "Where d'you think she is?" he asked, looking down at the sand. Lily shrugged.

"P-p-probably not f-far from…home," she said.

"Why d'you think that?"

"I h-had to…c-clear out the em-em…emergency cash for…bills—over a year ago," she said quietly. "I p-p…_paid_ some of the last f-few with m-m-my w-_wages_—and the groceries… I haven't p-p-put any money b-back in the stash b-because Trey used it f-for drugs. And I think M-mom got f-fired from the restaurant." Ryan frowned, and glanced at her.

"What?"

"She has-hasn't come home smell-smelling of b-burgers and…f-fries for w-weeks," she said. When Dawn worked in diners, she always came home reeking of onion rings and cheeseburgers; even with her alcoholism, the odour that accompanied that when Dawn worked a long shift in a hot kitchen, sweating out the alcohol, she still came home reeking of beef-burgers and pancakes. Even Lily, who only worked ticket-stubs and the concessions stand at the movie-theatre, came home smelling of nachos; if she ever ate buttered popcorn again it would be forty billion years too soon. She usually had to come home and get straight in the shower.

"So you reckon she's, what, still in Chino?"

"P-p-p—_yes_," Lily said, sighing when she couldn't pronounce 'probably'. "She d-didn't have the m-money to p-p…pay the bills, let alone skip—town and start over." But, without two kids and her eldest son freeloading off her, maybe Dawn would be able to get it all together.

"No money, no future," Ryan sighed. "You're right." He licked his lips, glancing around; he paused, looking out at the ocean, where a few flecks of white indicated sailing-boats skimming the water. "You know… All those times she threatened to leave… I never thought she'd actually do it."

"I know," Lily said quietly. Ryan glanced at her, looking more scared and hurt than the immediate aftermath of being kicked out of their family home.

"Am I really so bad she couldn't stand to be near me anymore?" he asked, trying to smile and be blasé about it.

"No," Lily said sternly, frowning at her brother. "This isn't about you…Th-this w-was ab-about M-Mom." Ryan reached out for her and enveloped her against his side in a one-armed hug. He pressed a kiss against her cheek and squeezed her for a second before releasing her, though still retaining his arm around her shoulders; they reached a point on the beach where the Cohen house and the _Summer Breeze_ were no longer visible, and they had been gone for nearly an hour. They turned back, and Ryan kicked the water as they paddled along the water's edge.

"Hey Lily," Ryan said, and she glanced at him. "I'm sorry about the car." Lily licked her lips and sighed softly.

"Why…did you d-do it?" she asked. Ryan stared at her for a minute, then shrugged, sighed and paddled his toes in the water.

"I don't know," he murmured morosely. "Trey was yelling at me to get in the car, I saw the cops and…panicked."

"You could've r-_run_," Lily said.

"But I didn't," Ryan said, sighing. "And I'll have to live with that." Lily fiddled with her camera.

"M-maybe it's a g-good thing you stole…the car," Lily said. Ryan frowned at her bemusedly. "Now, it's just you and…me." It had always been the two of them against the world. Against Trey, their mother, Dawn's boyfriends. They had drifted apart recently, due to Lily's constant work-schedule, but when it had counted, Lily had stuck by Ryan, the way she always had and would.

"You think we're gonna be okay?" Ryan murmured. Lily glanced at her brother.

"I th-think we're going t-to be b-better than we have b-been," she said honestly, and Ryan nodded thoughtfully. Without Dawn, without AJ and the awful men he brought into their home, without Trey and his bullshit…

She put her camera in front of her face and focused the lens and set the aperture to capture the view down a private jetty, an old jetty that wasn't straight and the wood of which was so worn down the grain and loops was easily visible as well as the nails; the textures were amazing, when compared to the dimpled, pure water, and the frothy quality of the surf just touching the very tips of the waves, and the clouds on the horizon beyond a large, moving rock. The shadows on the jetty itself and on the water's surface were amazing.

"Nice picture," Ryan remarked.

"I hope…so," Lily said, steadying her hand.

They wandered back down the beach, paddling through the surf, and made their way up the sloping pathway toward the Cohens' neighbourhood. A private-access beach right on their doorstep, basically, Lily couldn't imagine how blissful living here was, with the view of the ocean and the sound of the waves.

Mr Cohen's car was parked in the driveway when they returned, and the sound of his thick New York accent echoed in the house as he talked quickly to someone—his wife, Lily realised, as she and Ryan made their way toward the kitchen but tried not to look like they wanted in on the conversation. Especially since it turned out to be about them; Mr Cohen had just returned from Chino, and by his expression when he caught sight of them in the sitting-room archway, what Ryan had heard from Mrs Diaz had been confirmed.

"Sssss-she's gone, isn't she?" Lily said quietly, and Mr Cohen sighed, giving her a very solemn look.

"Yeah, sweetie, she is," he said softly. Ryan sank back, almost letting Lily shield him from the Cohens' view; Mrs Cohen's expression was too much to bear, she looked so appalled and sympathetic. Mr Cohen sighed heavily. "I had a nice chat with your neighbour Mrs Diaz, who lent me her spare-key into your house. It was completely emptied out."

"Everything?" Ryan asked hollowly. Mr Cohen nodded sombrely. Lily glanced quickly at Mr Cohen. _Everything_ had been removed from their house. That included…her dolls'-house. The dolls'-house her dad had made for her when he and Dawn had found out she was on the way.

Strangely, Lily was upset more by the loss of her dolls'-house than she was by the loss of her mother. She didn't know what kind of person that made her, but she knew the way her mother treated her had made Lily who she was.

"Yeah," Mr Cohen said heavily. "So, why don't you go put your things back in the pool-house, okay? Sleeping Boozy's graced us with his presence in the family-room." Lily couldn't help smiling; Mr Cohen bantering with his son was something to witness, and so was their teasing of each other, and of Mrs Cohen, the _non_domestic goddess. "Sleeping Boozy" was another example of the fun Mr and Mrs Cohen poked at their sheltered, adorable and incredibly lonely, witty son. Given it was his first hangover, and realising how much he had drunk last night, Lily was surprised Seth had made an appearance before early-afternoon.

But he was in the den, curled up on the sofa and draped in a blanket, holding a glass of orange juice, a buttered bagel in his other hand, a commercial playing on the television. He was dressed in a thick, fluffy robe and a pair of what seemed to be his mother's oversize dark sunglasses, the right-side of his face bruised a wonderful blackish purple and crimson; his movements were timid and restrained, painful because of his first ever hangover.

"Hey guys," Seth croaked. He looked _very_ sickly, particularly with the bruise.

"How're you feeling?" Ryan asked, sitting down in an armchair, while Lily sat down on the end of the sofa by Seth's feet, curling her legs beneath her and glancing at the television; apparently, Seth was watching some film version of _Catwoman_.

"You know that scene in _Alien_ where the thing's inside his stomach?" Seth asked, and Lily nodded. "Yeah, well, that's how I feel right now." Ryan couldn't stop a smile; Lily settled in on the sofa, watching the show that started playing when the commercial ended.

"Is th-that Julie Newmar?" she asked, watching closer as she thought she recognised the statuesque actress.

"You mean the original Catwoman?" Seth murmured. "Yes. Have you watched it before?"

"N-no. She's f-from _Seven B-Brides for Seven B-b-Brothers_," Lily said. It was one of three cassette-tapes she and the boys had enjoyed when growing up; she could still remember the first time she had ever watched it, curled up in her dad's lap when she was five, sucking her thumb and cuddling her baby-blanket. She had loved the seven brothers, loved Russ Tamblyn's acrobatic tricks, the dresses, the dancing, the "flour" cascading down the mountainside during the avalanche. Its magic was not lost on her even now, ten years later.

"My mom likes that movie," Seth remarked tiredly. "It was my grandma's favourite. Anyway, this is the original _Catwoman_ TV series from the 1960s. The best it ever was for Selina Kyle."

"Selina who?" Ryan asked. Seth stared at him.

"Selina Kyle. Catwoman's secret identity," Seth said, staring. He shook his head, then moaned, regretting it. "Dude, you have so much to learn."

"Didn't they remake a _Catwoman_ movie? Or had her in a—the new Batman movie," Ryan said, frowning thoughtfully.

"She was awful," Lily said, helping herself to a puffed _Cheeto_ and a sip of milk.

"You've seen it?" Seth asked.

"I worked in a m-m-movie theatre," Lily said, and Seth nodded. "Anne Hathaway was t-t-terrible."

"I know. Totally ruined Catwoman's street-cred. No, actually, Halle Berry did that," Seth grumbled. He sat up, moaned, and let his head fall back against the back of the sofa, pulling his sunglasses back over his eyes. "I'm never drinking beer _ever_ again… I handled that Summer situation last night so wrong."

"You were d-drunk-drunk," Lily said quietly. "So was she; she p-p-probably w-won't remember it."

"At least I can be thankful for _that_," Seth grumbled. "If I wasn't already dying of a hangover, I'd die of embarrassment."

"Sorry about the hangover, man," Ryan said. Seth waved a hand idly.

"I should've figured, Jewish lightweight plus beer equals mind-melting hangover and upset-stomach of epic flu-like proportions," Seth moaned, and Lily smiled.

"How can you eat bagels and coffee after that big breakfast?" Ryan asked, eyeing Seth.

"Morning ritual, Ryan," Seth sighed. "Coffee, bagel, Arts & Leisure."

"You have a morning ritual?" Ryan asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Something I've been crafting for a while now," Seth said. Mr Cohen appeared, smiling idly, and handed Seth the Arts & Leisure section of the newspaper. Opening it up to the back, Seth blurted indignantly, "Hey, who did the hardest-level crossword?"

"That was me," Lily said, glancing guiltily at Seth. "I d-didn't r-r-realise you'd w-want to—"

"You finished it?" Mr Cohen blurted, leaning over his son to gaze incredulously at the crossword. "I can't even get a handful of the cues!"

"Lily's the smart one in our family," Ryan said.

"Not the _only_ one," Lily said pointedly, glancing at her brother. He shrugged and relaxed in his armchair, watching the striking Julie Newmar in her black lurex cat-suit.

* * *

**A.N.**: Please review, tell me how you like the change of direction I put in with Lily's plans, how Sandy went to Chino alone. And, the bit with _Seven Brides for Seven Brothers_, I want Lily to kind of remind Caleb of his dead wife, with her interests, and the cotillion photographs, and how hard-working she is. I think Lily and Kirsten would get along very well because they're both so hard-working.


	8. Last Supper

**A.N.**: Thank you to everyone for your reviews, and artwork.

* * *

**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_07_

* * *

It was a very lazy day; Lily wasn't used to just sitting and watching television. For such a long time, she had been working nonstop to pay the bills and put food on the table—buy coffee and orange juice for her mother's hangovers—and it was strange to not be at work. With Seth completely hungover, and Ryan suffering as well, the boys spent most of the day on the sofa, snacking constantly and watching movies, playing on the _PlayStation_. Catching a glimpse of a luxurious television-show called _The Valley_, one of the girls reminded her of Marissa next-door, reminding her of this morning, and she turned to Ryan, frowning.

"Why was th-that Marissa girl in b-bed with m-me this morning?" she asked, and Seth turned bug-eyes onto her.

"You and Marissa Cooper _slept_ _together_?" he grinned.

"Oh, no," Ryan sighed. "Um… Last night I went out for a smoke, I saw…I don't know their names. Summer, and that blonde girl she hangs out with—"

"Probably Holly Fischer," Seth spoke up, his mouth clamped shut and lips thinning with dislike.

"Yeah. Whatever, but they had to carry Marissa to her house; she was passed out, she'd drunk so much," Ryan said, and Mrs Cohen, who had been doing some work at the kitchen table, glanced up, looking concerned. "They couldn't find Marissa's keys, so they just…left her on the driveway."

"They _what_?" Mrs Cohen blurted, eyes wide and horrified. Ryan turned around in his armchair.

"I, uh… I brought her up to sleep in the pool-house, I hope that's…okay," Ryan said, and Mrs Cohen stared, mortified.

"They just left her on the driveway?" she gaped. Ryan nodded solemnly.

"How m-much had she h-had to drink?" Lily asked, watching Ryan carefully. She had guessed the night they arrived that Ryan had liked the look of Marissa Cooper next-door. She had seen them flirting several times at the party last night, but hearing that she had drunk so much that she had blacked out, left on her driveway by girls who were supposed to be her friends, Lily wondered how many times the girls had done it, how often Marissa Cooper had drunk so much she blacked out. She wondered whether Ryan's attraction to the girl would wane due to this discovery, perhaps tying to his aversion to Dawn whenever she had been drinking excessively.

"I don't know," Ryan sighed heavily. "Enough that she was passed out cold."

"Well, she was able-b-b-bodied enough t-to slip out when I was in th-the shower," Lily said, and Ryan nodded subtly, eyes on the television. Mrs Cohen stared at Ryan for a moment, something going on behind those light-blue eyes, and she turned back to her work with a thoughtful frown, biting her lip.

When Seth's head cleared up more, pumped with Diet Coke, sugary snacks, a lot of tortilla chips and burgers for lunch, they migrated outside; the boys' bruises were beginning to heal, still lurid against their fair skin—only Trey had inherited their dad's easily-tanned olive skin-tone; Lily and Ryan were both fair-skinned; and Seth was an _indoor_-boy—and Seth kept hold of his mother's sunglasses as they got ready to go in the pool.

Mrs Cohen was on the landline, sitting at her desk in the sitting-room and talking to someone about the scale-model of a house propped on the footstool of her Eames chair, going through paperwork.

"—how do contractors disappear?" she blurted angrily. "I've been waiting nearly a month, I'm done!"

"Hey, Mom?" Seth called, and Mrs Cohen glanced up inquiringly. "We're gonna swim. Despite my suggestions, Lily's declined to skinny-dip." Mrs Cohen gave her son a sardonic look

"I'll call you back," Mrs Cohen said sternly, hanging up her call. "I'll see what I can find. And don't tell your dad about skinny-dipping."

"Yeah, I know; he still hasn't recovered from me putting up that 'No Chunky-Dunking' sign," Seth said, and Lily couldn't help smiling as Mrs Cohen laughed.

"There should be some old things of Haley's upstairs," Mrs Cohen said. "She's notorious for forgetting things when she packs. I'll go and have a look." Mrs Cohen had found an old swimsuit in one of the spare-bedrooms, where a collection of clothing left behind by her younger-sister resided in the dresser; it was a _Victoria's Secret_ sequin-stripe bandeau bikini with a V-wire and tie-side string bottoms. Living in California, even during the Christmas rush working in Victoria's Secret, Lily had learned the names and cuts of each of the bikinis sold, and this was a popular one for teenaged girls who liked a bit of bling.

"Thank you," Lily said shyly, taking the suit from her.

"Have fun," Mrs Cohen smiled, picking up the phone again.

"D-do you always…w-work on a…Sunday?" Lily asked, glancing at the paperwork, the scale-model.

"Not usually," Mrs Cohen sighed. "I'm in the middle of a new development; my contractors have suspiciously disappeared."

"How do contractors d-disappear?" Lily asked curiously.

"I wish I knew," Mrs Cohen chuckled tiredly. Lily bit her lip, thinking, and Mrs Cohen smiled at her encouragingly.

"Ryan's worked construction before," she said quietly. "I d-don't know about his p-p-probation, but d-do sometimes the courts ask kids t-to get jobs?"

"Sometimes they do," Mrs Cohen nodded. "Ryan's worked construction?"

"All last summer," Lily nodded. "I th-think he enjoyed it…"

"That's right," Mrs Cohen smiled. "You said he wanted to be an architect." Lily nodded. "Well, I'll keep him in mind. I know Seth would want us to keep track of you two." And what Seth wanted, Lily had a feeling he eventually got it. But Lily wanted to keep in touch with Seth too; she had just been thinking that perhaps if Ryan got a job working construction during the summer, he could earn some money and he wouldn't have to quit school and do his GED by himself while Lily worked. Mrs Cohen sighed heavily, glancing at the scale-model. "This new housing-development is more trouble than it's worth."

"Is this…w-what all the h-houses w-will…look like?" Lily asked, gesturing at the model, and Mrs Cohen nodded; Lily leaned down to examine it closely. "It's b-b-beautiful. Is th-this supposed t-to be an infinity p-p-pool too?"

"Yes. And a hot-tub. The inside is supposed to have a mezzanine gallery, big vaulted ceilings," Mrs Cohen said. "A big, open kitchen, panoramic views."

"You've t-taken some themes f-from this house," Lily observed, and Mrs Cohen nodded. "Is th-this house a Newport Group build?"

"It is," Mrs Cohen smiled warmly. "My father had it built for us when Sandy and I moved here with Seth."

"D-did your sister live here sometimes t-too?" Lily asked.

"Sometimes. She's more than ten years my junior, so… After my mom died, she spent a lot of time with us," Mrs Cohen sighed.

"Where d-does she live?" Lily asked curiously.

"At the moment? I have no idea," Mrs Cohen said, looking suddenly very sad before glancing at Lily with a smile. "She's an adventuress. With a trust-fund and a passport, she's partied her way around the world."

"Wow," Lily said softly, unable to imagine having so much money she could party her way around the world with no responsibilities, no care… "I'd im…imagine that would get exhausting sometimes."

"But she is determined to do it," Mrs Cohen sighed, giving her an arch little smile. "I tell you what, if Haley could meet you, she'd love to have you as her wing-girl on another whirlwind tour through South America." Mrs Cohen chuckled, and Lily smiled.

"M-maybe when Seth sails me t-to Fiji, we c-could meet up with her," Lily said, and Mrs Cohen chuckled. Lily knew there was no chance of her sailing to Fiji, but it was a nice thought. Letting Mrs Cohen get back to her work, Lily went and changed into the bikini, a little shy about it (she had only ever worn her red lifeguard swimsuit at the town pool) and met the boys outside, where they were blowing up inflatable loungers for the pool. Seth looked like he was about to pop a kidney, and Ryan's eyes were popping. Lily brought out her film camera; Seth grabbed his mother's sleek new silver digital-camera, and while they sat on the edge of the pool with bottles of _Izze_ with striped straws, oranges from the trees on the edge of the property and homemade conical fruit popsicles, they played around with the cameras, Seth teasing Lily about being "the first babe I've ever invited into my crib", and Lily smiled at Seth and Ryan as they floated on the water, the sun baking them to a crisp.

Sheslipped into the pool to cool off; the water was warm, mostly from the sun rather than heating, and it was nice just drifting in the water, the sounds of the water, the distant waves, the gentleness of the breeze through nearby palms, the fragrance of Mrs Cohen's many potted flowers.

In the future, Lily wanted a flower-garden, a true garden filled with flowers, like in _The Secret Garden_ movie she had once seen on television; though they lived on the coast, in Southern California, Mrs Cohen had come close to creating a flower-garden with what yard-space she had; the patio, where a few cushioned loungers and a little table overlooked the hot-tub and the flawless view, featured a flowerbed overflowing with several late-flowering peony-bushes in different hues of pink; lush greenery shone glossily, and a beautiful bluish-purple lilac tree waved idly in the breeze by the door to the Cohens' master-bedroom. Potted yellow and red celosia and begonias were dotted around with hurricane-lamps filled with sand around tall candles, the pergola trellis over the majority of the patio dotted with tiny tea-light holders that would glitter in the twilight when lit for an outdoor party; there were white fairy-lights hidden amongst the honeysuckle and white- and purple-wisteria. A large birds-of-paradise bush had at least thirty blossoms, surrounded by beautiful blue agapanthus, pale-pink geraniums, white alliums, very pretty California poppies, a pinkish-lilac hydrangea, a yellow-centred pink dahlia bush buzzing with bees, a beautiful sunset-yellow rose waved idly in the breeze; various other bushes filled with flowers littered around the sculptured flowerbeds, allowed to grow naturally, the flowerbeds filled with scented herbs, box, a few flowering cacti, a handful of sweet little succulents scattered around the edges. A gloriosa-lily was climbing up the side of the pool-house, directly overlooking the outdoor sitting-area and kitchenette.

It was beautiful here. _Incredibly_ tranquil. They spent the afternoon being incredibly lazy, soaking up some vitamins from the sun as they continued to hydrate with _Izze_ juices, iced-tea, and snack on wedges of watermelon, fresh oranges, popsicles and purple tortilla chips with artichoke and jalapeno cream-cheese dip. As Seth regained more strength, his energy returning since his stomach had settled and his headache went away, he got more enthusiastic about playing in the pool. It was probably the first time he'd ever had anybody to enjoy it with, and he loved _games_. Though he despised water-polo-players of every shape and form, he loved smacking around an inflatable beach-ball, floating on a li-lo and inflatable _Batman_ donut.

"You know what," Seth said, paddling silently toward them, having drifted off to collect a beach-ball from the side of the pool, "with this being your last night and all, I think we should do something special."

Tomorrow, Mr Cohen had to take them to Social Services. Their situation had to be explained; Lily, who had a plan already, would consult someone further about her emancipation, and Ryan… He hadn't said anything about wanting the same as Lily; to be honest, he had little hope of anything. Nobody in their family had graduated high-school; going into their junior-year, they had already outdone Trey, but Ryan didn't like the idea of foster-care. Mr and Mrs Cohen had hired a private investigator to find their mother, so even if Ryan went into a group-home, they wanted to try and convince Dawn to take Ryan back home. Perhaps Mr and Mrs Cohen had had a conversation about her, because Mr Cohen hadn't mentioned to Lily about going into foster-care. With everything he knew, with what Lily intended and knowing that whether or not she was forced to go back with her mother she was getting out of Dawn's home, perhaps Mr Cohen's lawyer sensibility had overridden his paternal instincts and he would help her get her emancipation.

The thought of emancipation had given her a little glimmer of hope.

The hope of living alone—or alone, with Ryan—in a place that was her own, clean, tidy, made her feel…not _happy_, but as close to it as she had come in the last year. It had been a long time since she had been anything but lonely, unhappy, depressed. The thought of being responsible for herself and only herself had temporarily lifted a huge weight from her shoulders that she knew she had been bearing for ages.

Her unhappiness was tangible, a part of herself that weighed her down, made her limbs heavy and made it difficult some mornings to make herself get out of bed, and sometimes made her lock herself in the bathroom and cry in the shower. And nobody noticed, not even Ryan. But she was doing better, and emancipating herself would give her the freedom to help herself be happy.

Lily knew she and Ryan couldn't impose on the Cohens any longer, with the work-week about to begin, but she had to admit…she would miss Seth and his quick-talking, sarcastic ways. She got the feeling that Seth was as lonely as she was, and Ryan liked him; maybe they could all be friends.

"What were y-you t-thinking?" Lily asked. Seth pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"I don't know what," he said quietly. "Perhaps get some tattoos and hire some hookers and lose our virginities, I don't know." Ryan smirked when Lily glanced at her brother; with his sultry brooding and soulful blue eyes, he had had a lot of female admirers.

"Okay, _Rebel Without a Cause_ is playing at the old movie theatre if…that's what you're into," Seth said quietly. Lily perked up; James Dean! Besides old John Wayne movies and Grace Kelly/Hitchcock gems, Lily loved actors like Gary Cooper, their spirit preserved in masculine and graceful actors like Patrick Swayze, the feel of _Rebel_ touching the new _On the Road_ movie. She loved old westerns, the vintage feel of James Dean films, the way _Rebel Without A Cause_ translated to the feel of _Rumble Fish _and _The Outsiders_; she loved the classicism and timelessness of Elizabeth Taylor films like _A Place in the Sun_ and Kelly's _To Catch a Thief_. Gary Cooper, John Wayne… She loved them.

"I think I just wanna take it easy," Ryan said quietly, and Lily nodded. She closed her eyes and drifted on the water, which lapped at her hot skin, cooling her off.

"Hey kids," Mr Cohen said, walking out by the pool. "You hungry? I was thinking of putting something on the grill."

"God, I'm starving!" Seth blurted.

"D-do you n-need any…help?" Lily asked, and Mr Cohen smiled.

"Actually, that would be great," Mr Cohen grinned. Lily climbed out of the pool, quickly showering off in the little-house before donning her black lace bandeau bra and threadbare grey t-shirt, and while Mrs Cohen chatted away on the phone on a patio lounger with a glass of red wine, and the boys splashed idly in the pool, Mr Cohen took several juicy-looking steaks from the refrigerator. Lily rummaged through the fridge, and put together a spinach salad with pear, feta cheese crumbles, dried cranberries and candied walnuts; Mr Cohen showed her how to make a raspberry vinaigrette, and Lily set the patio-table for dinner, lighting the candles in the hurricane-lamps and on the trellis, and went to watch Mr Cohen grill the steaks.

"Hey, sweetie," Mr Cohen smiled. "Hey, how do you and Ryan like your steaks?"

"I don't…k-know," Lily said quietly. "I've…n-never actually h-had steak."

"Tickled pink in the centre, then, as it should be," Mr Cohen smiled. He glanced at her and smiled. "So, you like to cook?"

"I do," Lily nodded.

"How'd you learn how to cook?" Mr Cohen asked.

"N-n-necessity, mostly; cookbooks, and working—at th-the d-diner," Lily said. "I'd l-l-like t-to learn to cook d-different things, though."

"Well, you've already got one on Kirsten," Mr Cohen said, grinning. "Seth and I won't let her go near the stove." Lily smiled, and Mr Cohen removed the sizzling steaks from barbecue onto a plate, and he turned the barbecue off and closed the lid. Lily was amazed how quickly the steaks had cooked, and Mr Cohen told her how the steaks should be left to rest before eating them, to let the juices ooze out.

"Guys, come on, out of the pool! Dinner's almost ready!" Mr Cohen called, and as the home-phone rang, Mrs Cohen unfolded from the lounger to grab it, disappearing inside the kitchen; as Lily went to find a pitcher for ice-water, bringing out Seth's and Ryan's choices for drinks, she heard Mrs Cohen talking tiredly with someone about her new luxurious housing development. While Mr Cohen disappeared into the kitchen to make drinks for himself and his wife, Lily rearranged the plates on the patio-table to set down the platter of steaks and bowl of grilled, fragrant potatoes, roasted broccoli and asparagus tossed with a little bit of grated parmesan. Simple, very, _very_ tasty, Lily would be remembering the recipes Mr Cohen seemed to just throw together with what was in the refrigerator. Lighting the last of the candles in the centre of the table, it was with a warm glow and an incredible sunset that they all sat down to eat.

Seth came shuffling over, having towelled himself off and pulled on a sarcastic t-shirt; he still wore the oversize sunglasses. Both he and Ryan bore their bruises like badges of honour, symbols of their bond and fraternity in defending each other no matter what, no matter that they had met only twelve hours before the fight had broken out.

"Wow, this looks great," Mrs Cohen smiled. "Who made the salad?"

"Lily did," Mr Cohen said, handing Lily the little bottle of vinaigrette so she could dress the salad.

"So, last supper, huh," Mr Cohen said, and catching sight of Mrs Cohen's expression, his shoulders hunched like a misbehaving child's. "Sorry. Bad joke."

"It's just a laugh riot around here," Mrs Cohen remarked.

"This all looks really good," Ryan said, looking at the spread.

"Yeah, it's too bad you're leaving," Seth said, handing the dishes around for everyone to take what they wanted. "We never eat like this."

"That's not true; I cook _all_ the time," Mrs Cohen said defensively.

"Dad?" Seth prompted, and Mr Cohen just started _laughing_. Lily couldn't help smiling at the way Seth and Mr Cohen teased Mrs Cohen—and the way Mrs Cohen and Seth teased _Mr_ Cohen, and how both parents playfully teased Seth.

"I'm sorry, honey," Mr Cohen said, laughing. "Now we're not saying we want you to cook more—"

"Hell, no!" Seth remarked. "Do you remember the meatloaf incident of '99?"

"That was brisket," Mrs Cohen corrected.

"That's my point exactly," Seth said. Mrs Cohen flicked her eyes from Lily to Ryan, half exasperated and half amused, and Lily couldn't imagine having such an affectionate, playful family.

"Let's just eat," Mrs Cohen said, and they enjoyed the wonderful meal. As the sun set, staining the sky with incredible colours, the sound of the waves became more pronounced, crickets serenaded them, and the little candles scattered all across the garden flickered as flowers perfumed the air. Lily had never had steak; her little filet was moist and succulent and touched with pink at the centre, the way it should be.

"I c-can say with confidence th-that if a boy t-took me t-to a nice restaurant, I wouldn't have a…frou-frou…salad," Lily said, licking her lips and reaching for her glass of milk. "I'd d-d-definitely have _steak_."

"I'm glad to hear it!" Mr Cohen grinned. "Ryan, how's yours?"

"It's great, thanks," Ryan said, smiling subtly.

The boys—well, Seth—were asked to clean up when they had finished eating, dessert coming in the form of freshly-picked fruit from the trees in the garden, and while Seth cleared away the plates and Lily blew out all the candles outside, Mr Cohen retrieved several legal documents from his office; one for Ryan, and a different document for Lily. The papers he handed Ryan were to put him into foster-care; Lily's were her request for emancipation.

"As your attorney, I'll co-sign them," Mr Cohen said heavily, glancing at Ryan, "they basically state that you don't…don't have a parent or legal guardian…_available_."

"So now I'm property of the government," Ryan said heavily. "Codename 0382965."

"Hey, it's better than 'Death-Breath Seth'," Seth remarked, dumping several bowls in the sink. Glancing over his shoulder and seeing his father's expression, he amended, "Or so I would imagine."

"So we'll meet with your social-worker in the morning, and she'll be the one to take you to the group-home," Mr Cohen said. "My contact at Child Services got you in with only two other kids, which is good—they get crowded."

"Thanks," Ryan said. "Appreciate it."

"And you know—they do find foster-homes for kids your age," Mr Cohen said.

"Yeah, 'cause everyone wants a brand-new teenager," Seth said dully.

Lily sat at the island with a legal-pad and a pen, taking notes on the document Mr Cohen had given her, which she had to sign, declaring she wished to divorce her mother, take full legal responsibility for herself. Seth thought emancipation was very cool; Lily, Lil Bow-Wow, Hilary Duff. Lily wasn't sure she liked the association with either celebrity, but she sat reading through the fine-print of the documents, which would open up an investigation into Dawn. Mr Cohen had said he would sign her forms, as her lawyer, and given that Dawn had abandoned her, he was sure her request for emancipation would go through easily. Ryan hadn't requested emancipation, or made any comment about being curious about it. Lily thought he was just…_going with it_.

Seth put something in the refrigerator, glared at the paper she was combing through with her pen, and, finally, it seemed, he couldn't hold on to what was on his mind.

"I'm sorry if I have to be the one who'll state the obvious," he said, as if he couldn't help himself, and despite his mother's warning, "but we have all this extra room, right, we have a ton of bedrooms _and_ a pool-house, yet you guys are gonna ship Ryan off to some group home, let Lily live by _herself_? Am I the only one who gets how much that sucks?"

"It's okay," Ryan said quickly, his voice dark. Seth glanced at him, and Ryan glanced around. "Really." Ryan signed his paper and set the pen down atop it. "Good luck with that," he said, glancing at Mrs Cohen, and nodding to the model-home scale-model. "It looks perfect. 'Night."

"Goodnight," Mr Cohen said sadly. Lily, sensing the awkwardness lingering between the Cohen family-members, took her paper and retreated to the den, tracking the sentences with a capped pen, making sense of the legal jargon, wanting to sit down with Mr Cohen and go through it line-by-line. Trying not to hear the hushed argument going on between Seth and his mother, when the doorbell rang, Lily capped her pen, put down the paperwork and went to answer the door.

Garrett, in a black t-shirt, dark jeans and a handsome, relaxed brown suede jacket, stood on the doorstep. He looked _good_, with his hair combed away from his face, showcasing his beautiful cheekbones and rich sapphire eyes. He was…the most beautiful boy Lily had ever seen. Garrett caught her eye, and a beautiful smile flashed his glittering white teeth at her as his eyes crinkled adorably at the corners. "Hey," he said warmly.

"Hi," Lily said shyly.

"I was hoping it'd be you who answered," he smiled.

"You d-did?" Lily frowned bemusedly, her cheeks heating in embarrassment over her stammer.

"Yeah," Garrett grinned. "I, uh… Do you wanna go out for ice-cream?" Lulled by his deep, _so_ deep, lovely voice, Lily stood on the doorstep, gazing at Garrett, almost uncomprehending. Ice-cream?

"Like on a d-date?" she flushed. Garrett shrugged.

"Not…a date, just…" he glanced around, then locked eyes on her, half-smiling.

"Just ice-cream?" Lily said softly, unable to stop herself half-smiling back. Lily didn't have many friends; Ryan and Theresa were her best-friends, and it had been a long time since anybody had asked her to hang out with them. 'Just ice-cream' with Garrett, this beautiful, deep-voiced boy, sounded…really nice.

"Yeah," Garrett smiled softly. Lily blushed again, licking her lips, as she heard Mr Cohen's voice.

"I should—I should p-p-probably ask Mr and Mrs Cohen," she stammered nervously.

"Oh, I already called Sandy," Garrett said, glancing into the sitting-room, "he said it'd be okay to take you out."

"What?" a small voice said, and Lily started, glancing around.

"Seth?" she asked, and Seth skulked out from his hiding-spot on the step into his father's office.

"Who even calls to ask permission anymore?" Seth asked curiously, loping over to them, staring at Garrett incredulously.

"My great-uncle suggested I take this whole return-to-kinder-gentler-traditions agenda," Garrett said, shrugging as he jingled his keys.

"Hey, is he the one who's been married to like five Italian supermodels?" Seth asked. Garrett gave an incredible smile, winking at Lily.

"Exactly," he chuckled softly.

"I'm not saying that it's a bad th—" Seth stammered.

"Laugh now, but I will be sending your dad a hand-written thank-you note for giving me permission to take Lily out," Garrett smirked playfully, and Seth laughed.

"Maybe she doesn't want to go out with you, because, I mean, I told her about the glue thing," Seth said, smoothing the front of his t-shirt with a sniff. "I wouldn't wanna go out with you either."

"If I remember correctly, you dared me," Garrett said, and Lily glanced at him, amused, wondering what the 'glue thing' was, guessing it involved eating it.

"That wasn't a dare; that was just…misinformed," Seth declared, eyes widening earnestly. "I thought, you know, if it looked like ranch-dressing…"

"That was not a good play-date," Garrett grimaced subtly.

"No, no, it was okay, I mean, it ended up being pretty good," Seth shrugged.

"We cut Marissa's hair off when she got gum in it," Garrett sighed, smiling reminiscently.

"When you _put_ gum in it," said a new voice, and Mr Cohen strode over. "Hey, Garrett, how are you? Hey, you here to take Lily out?"

"I'm just waiting for her answer," Garrett said, smiling charmingly.

"Bear in mind that if you say no, he'll go and pull a Jack Dawson," Seth said to Lily, in a pretend-aside. "But don't let that factor into your decision."

"Jack Dawson?" Lily frowned bemusedly.

"Oh my god," Seth gasped softly, holding his fingertips to his mouth. "You've never seen _Titanic_?"

"No," Lily said honestly, shaking her head.

"But the fact that Seth has should tell you everything," Garrett smirked, clapping a hand around Seth's shoulders.

"Um, excuse me, we watched it together," Seth said, eyes wide.

"That was supposed to be our secret," Garrett said, glancing quickly at him.

"Only from Oscar," Seth said playfully.

"He's very protective," Garrett said to Lily.

"Luckily I'm very old fashioned," Seth said, raising his chin; Lily and Mr Cohen were both laughing over their behaviour. They looked like they could have had their own double-act.

"He's always been a perfect gentleman to me," Garrett said, glancing at Lily and winking. Lily couldn't help smiling. She licked her lips thoughtfully.

A strange boy wanted to spend…alone time with her.

She had never before had any boy wanting to spend time with her, and didn't really know how to react.

Did she want to spend…alone time with him?

In plain terms, yes.

"Okay," she said softly, glancing at Garrett.

"Okay?" he repeated, smiling.

"I'll…come for ice-cream with you," she said, blushing softly.

"Great," Garrett smiled.

"Um…let m-me just go…" She gestured to the panorama of sunset-filled windows.

"Hey, you don't have to change. You look great," Garrett said, smiling, as he flicked his sapphire gaze down, then back to her eyes. "All sun-kissed."

"We've been out by the pool all day," Seth remarked.

"I know," Garrett said, a slow grin creeping to his lips as his eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Oh, someone's been _peeping_!" Seth crowed.

"Finally something next-door worth peeping at," Garrett shrugged nonchalantly, catching Lily's eye and winking playfully.

"Besides my mom, you mean," Seth said.

"Oh, well, yeah," Garrett shrugged, as if this was a given.

"What's that about my wife of nearly eighteen years?" Mr Cohen spoke up, his attention returning to the conversation from Ryan's paperwork in his hand.

"Hm?" Seth gazed wide-eyed, earnest. "_Was_? What? I don't—no—are you—I—" Garrett reached for Lily's hand, drawing her gently toward the porch steps.

"Come on," he said, chuckling softly as Mr Cohen rolled up Ryan's paperwork and whacked him around the head with it, Seth distracting his dad long enough for Garrett to make a clean break with Lily.

She had always wanted to be able to go out on dates and get _close_ to a boy, not just physically—she wanted that too, though—but emotionally. She had come close with Sawyer, but he liked casual-dating, noncommittal _fun_, that meant they could kiss while they hung out. But the opportunities to spend together had become more and more infrequent, she felt like they were strangers. She was such a lonely girl that sometimes there seemed no hope or possibility for the kind of relationship that movies were made about, that dominated four series' of a television-show. She thought of her future and she saw a kind, wonderful man with her, but where _she_ was now, emotionally, even with this emancipation and Dawn having run off, lonely and friendless, she had no idea how to get to any place where she could meet someone. And the fact that she couldn't even _speak_... Mrs Diaz said it would happen; one day, something would happen, and she would just…know.

Well, she wouldn't get the kind of closeness she longed for if she didn't take opportunities that came her way. And despite her apprehensions of being alone with a strange boy, she _wanted_ to be alone with Garrett. She wanted to…to _know_ him, to listen to what he had to say and…_try_ to respond.

She wanted a _friend_, as much as she wished for that warm future.

"Back before one o'clock," Mr Cohen called, as they reached the end of the Cohens' driveway. "Bonus points for midnight." Glancing back, she saw Mr Cohen egging her on with a grin, Mrs Cohen rolling her eyes and trying to drag him away from the door; Seth made kissy-faces at her as Mrs Cohen tried to close the door on him, and Lily glanced at Garrett, a little embarrassed, and wondering if he'd noticed.

Even before she had started working excessively to keep her family afloat, Lily hadn't been a social-butterfly; her crippling stammer made social situations awkward, and shaming; but she had had a few good friends, and Theresa and Ryan had grown up with her, knew her stammer, but she had never been one for small-talk. So she didn't know now if she could small-talk even if she was supposed to.

Garrett didn't seem to mind; he caught her eye and smiled; they walked down the driveway and when they reached his old 80s _Silverado_, he opened the passenger door for her and closed it when she had climbed in, and made sure she was buckled in before he drove off.

"Have you ever had a Balboa Bar before?" he asked, glancing at her, as a familiar song played from his stereo-system, which was hooked up to an iPod, the only new feature in the old truck.

Lily shook her head. "No, w-what is it?"

"It's an ice-cream bar dipped in melted chocolate and covered with chopped nuts," Garrett explained. Lily hummed hungrily, smiling, and he grinned at her as he drove them out of the cul-de-sac.

"W-why do t-they c-call it a-a-a a B-balboa b-bar?" Lily asked, trying to keep a hold of her power over her own vocal chords. "W-why d-don't t-they just call it ice-cream."

"Nothing around here is _just_," Garrett smiled. "Everything around here has to have some feature to distinguish it from what the proletariat has." Lily smiled, and glanced at Garrett as he drove them out of the gated community toward the main roads, driving toward the coastline.

"S-so w-where are we going?" Lily asked.

"I thought I'd take you down to the beach," Garrett said, a pair of Aviator sunglasses flashing in the sunlight. "It's almost sunset, and I thought you should see a beach where your friend isn't being bullied."

"W-were they your friends?" Lily asked, stumbling over the R in 'friends'. Garrett glanced at her, but he didn't stare at her as if he was embarrassed for her that she couldn't speak. He looked almost ashamed of himself.

"They can be, at times, I mean…we go to school together," he said, sighing, glancing at her as he flipped his visor down and tugged on a pair of stylish dark-lens gold _Ray_ _Ban_ Aviators, the sun directly in front of them. "Known most of them since I was born, but…"

"B-but you wouldn't t-tell a stranger they're your friends," Lily discerned. She couldn't imagine anyone would claim those boys as their friends, after seeing them dangle a boy upside down by a campfire, ganging up on two boys and beating the hell out of them.

"Yeah," Garrett agreed, glancing at her.

"D-do you and Seth…spend much t-time t-together?" Lily asked curiously. She knew Seth was lonely, and Mrs Cohen had mentioned that Seth had been 'pouting' since Garrett had been away, but she wondered whether it was normal for Garrett and Seth to hang out.

"Not that much," Garrett said, driving them along. "I mean, we both love sailing, and music, but, you know, different genres, and we both have other interests that are real different."

"And you have Oscar," Lily noted, and Garrett grinned.

"Yeah," he smiled warmly. Lily tucked a lock of hair out of her face as the breeze filtered through the open cab windows. Garrett sighed, turning back to the road; he drove with one arm on the wheel, the other propped on the car-door; whenever he changed gear, he did so without his hand on the wheel, but Lily felt…safe. He was an observant driver, never keeping his eyes off the road for more than a few seconds.

"Seth's always been bullied, since we were kids," he said, glancing at her. "And he's only ever known the bad sides to the kids we go to school with." Even though the breeze was whipping past their ears and swirling through Lily's hair, Garrett's deep voice was easily audible. "I'm sure if they got to know Seth they'd see what a cool guy he really is, but…Seth hates them as much as they dislike him… So, you like Seth?"

"He's cool," Lily said honestly. "He talks…v-very f-f-fast—sometimes." Garrett laughed, a deep, rich rumble that seemed to fuse deep inside his chest and thunder up through his body. "He's unique. I d-don't… I've n-never met anyone…quite—l-like him." She smiled at Garrett, who laughed, his grin flashing in the sun.

"I don't think any of us has," he chuckled. "He took you and Ryan sailing?" Garrett prompted.

"Yesterday and…Fwiday," Lily said, cringing at herself. If she could, she would do anything to get rid of her speech impediment; she could save up money while she worked to pay for visits to a speech therapist, but she didn't know what good it would do; as soon as she was forced into a confrontation or at the front of the class for a presentation, she froze completely, physically incapable of making a single sound.

"Did you like it?" Garrett asked.

"I liked the…t-the freedom," Lily said thoughtfully. "You sail?"

"Yeah. I'm not as obsessed as Seth is, but his grandpa taught us both to sail when we were just kids," Garrett said.

"What else do you do othethen—oth- other…t-_than_," Lily struggled, her face burning, "surfing and sailing." Garrett didn't comment on her impediment.

"Um, well, I like scuba diving," Garrett said. "What I really wanna do is go to Fiji or the Great Barrier Reef and dive through the coral."

"What about sharks?" Lily asked.

"Ah, you don't have to worry about them," Garrett said casually. "Keep worrying about things like that, you start losing out on opportunities."

"Yeah," Lily agreed, sighing deeply. If she didn't have her stammer…there wasn't anything she wouldn't ask to do. She had been thinking earlier about Ryan, once wanting to become an architect, having asked Mrs Cohen to remember him for possible work on a construction job; perhaps she could ask Mrs Cohen to allow Ryan to shadow some of the Newport Group's architects, to get a feel for their jobs, perhaps to inspire him.

"Have you ever been scuba diving?"

"I had a s-snorkel once," Lily said sadly. Garrett glanced at her.

"What happened to it?"

"Well, m-my orthend-orthoden—_or-tho-don-tist_ said I h-had to have t-teeth out f-for my…b-braces," Lily said, "s-so I h-had just h-had f-five t-teeth removed wh-when we went t-to the b-b-_beach_. And I c-couldn't grip the mouthpiece."

"Yeah, snorkel-diving kinda doesn't work if you can't use the snorkel," Garrett chuckled. "Being able to breathe helps. You had _five_ teeth pulled?"

"Yeah, at t-the same time," Lily said. "T-they were baby-teeth."

"When did you get your braces off?" Garrett asked.

"Nearly a y-year ago," Lily said. Garrett glanced at her.

"Well, even though you didn't get to snorkel, the braces paid off," he said, glancing over her face again. "You have a very beautiful smile." Lily glanced at Garrett; he smiled at her. "I've been looking through some of the photos I took at the fashion-show." Lily nodded, thinking back to the fashion-show; she had wanted photographs of her and Seth and Ryan—particularly Ryan, dressed up in a suit. That was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She remembered chatting with Seth, signing and grinning with cheeky, lovely Oscar.

She couldn't remember the last time she had really _smiled_. And she didn't know why it was that Garrett could make her smile, and that talking with him wasn't sending her into 'verbal paralysis' as she called it. But something about Garrett was…_calming_, and she didn't feel threatened by him, which was one of the main prompts triggering her crippling stammer.

That was one of the biggest differences between the men she knew and had grown up around and the boys she had met here; Seth and Garrett were both so unassuming, so _nice_, and so nonthreatening—even though Garrett was easily a foot taller than most of the men she knew from home—and Mr Cohen so _nice_ that she felt like she didn't _need_ to feel threatened and on edge, which meant she was a lot more relaxed and less likely to tense up and freeze up whenever anyone spoke to her.

They reached the beach, which seemed unusually busy for the time of day, and Garrett parked his truck right on the beachfront, where the sidewalk turned to sand and beyond, late sunbathers chatted, kids played beach-volleyball and Frisbee and walked down the beach; girls in bikinis roller-bladed down the sidewalk and joggers ran with their dogs.

"So, what would you like? Dark, milk or white chocolate?" Garrett said, tucking his iPod into the glove-compartment with several CDs, and climbing out of the car; Lily slid out too, and smiled.

"Uh…I don't know," Lily said, smiling self-consciously, and Garrett smiled as he locked the car.

"Well, that's okay, 'cause we've got a bit of a walk till we get to the ice-cream shack," he said, and Lily raised her eyebrows, glancing around; there were quite a few little stalls selling hot-dogs, cotton-candy, pretzels and fresh seafood, and she had assumed the ice-cream vendor was among the others littering the boardwalk.

Garrett led the way to the sand, and before Lily knew it, they were making their way along the beach, their bare toes in the still-warm sand. The sun setting, she noticed that the temperature was beginning to drop, and despite that, Garrett took off his suede jacket, carrying it with his boots as Lily unlaced her Docs and picked up shells along the way.

For a few minutes, they walked in silence; it wasn't uncomfortable, but Lily just _wished_ she didn't have the stammer and that she could have a single conversation without getting upset and frustrated and more worked up because of it that she couldn't speak properly.

"So… I thought you might be leaving," Garrett said, a few minutes later; he had his hands in his jacket pockets, and looked casual and delicious, the late-evening sun burnishing his blonde hair a gleaming, burning gold. His eyes glowed the most surreal hue of blue she had ever seen.

"I guess—we were sup-p-pposed—to," Lily sighed, wincing.

"What do you mean?" Garrett asked, glancing at her; she sifted her toes through the sand as she walked along beside him, surprised how easily she could keep up with his long-legged strides. Lily bit her lip, glancing at Garrett, and sighed softly.

"Mr Cohen…wanted t-to drive us—home this m-morning," she said quietly, tucking a lock of hair out of her face. "B-but I—asked t-to talk to him and…while we were in his office—Ryan c-called home. There wasn't ann-n-ny answer, s-so Mr Cohen d-drove t-to Chino…by himself."

"What happened?" Garrett asked softly, his rich tenor warm and comforting. Lily sighed, rubbing her arm.

"Our m-m-mom had—c-c-cleaned out…th-the house—while we were…gone," she said, glancing at Garrett as a strange pain shot through her body. Hurt. She was _hurt_ that her mother had abandoned them. A huge crashing wave of emotion hit her, and her eyes started to burn; she blinked the burn away and walked on a little bit.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked quietly; Lily glanced up.

"Talking is…n-not weally my…stwong suit," she said, closing her eyes in humiliation over her stammer.

"So…you were gone for, what, twenty-four hours, and she disappeared?" Garrett said darkly, and Lily was surprised by how angry he sounded. She nodded. "Do you know where she might've gone?" Lily sighed and shook her head.

"T-to b-be honest…I don't…want t-to—know," she said quietly, tucking a lock of hair out of her face.

"Why not?" Garrett asked. Lily paused, tunnelling her toes into the sand, fiddling with the straps of her sandals. She looked up, trying to find the right words—that she could say—that could explain without her having to explain everything, just why she didn't want to see her mother ever again. Especially to a complete stranger. What would Garrett think of her for not caring where her mother was, just as long as Lily didn't have to clean up after her messes?

"I can't…c-can't keep p-p-playing t-the…p-p-par—"

"Parent," Garrett supplied evenly, when Lily couldn't say it, and she nodded, sighing with relief. "Yeah, I can understand that."

"Can you?" Lily asked, glancing from the corner of her eye at him, and for a moment, he didn't answer, watching her thoughtfully.

"Maybe not exactly," he amended after a moment. "But I know what it's like to have a totally self-centred mom who's passive-aggressive at best, and…and clueless. My dad's…more of a best-friend. He always lets Mom play bad-cop."

"P-p-punishing…loved-ones c-comes more n-naturally to…some p-people," Lily said, and Garrett chuckled, flashing his glittery white grin.

"That's true," he laughed softly. "What about your family? Is your dad better than your mom?" Lily glanced at Garrett, lowering her eyes to the sand as she started off again, biting her lip. Her father hadn't always behaved like Dan Conner. Sometimes he had been downright brutal. But when he'd been put in jail, their family had fallen apart, and she missed what they had been when he didn't drink, when their family had been good.

"I w-wouldn't know," Lily said, her cheeks burning when Garrett caught her eye, giving her a curious look. "M-my d-dad was p-put in pri-prison when I waseven. Seven. I-was-sev-en." Garrett glanced at her, and his _Ray Bans_ concealed his eyes, which were probably wide and regretful; Lily was both a felon's daughter and sister to two car-thieves.

"Why?" Garrett asked.

"Armed…wobble—wobber—"

"Robbery?" Garrett said heavily.

"If you w-want to leave m-me hew—_here_," Lily said, "I would-wouldn't b-blame you." Garrett caught her eye and gave her a very steady, but highly sardonic look. Walking on a few paces, Garrett had his hands tucked in his pockets, but when he glanced at her, his lips were drawn in a thoughtful frown.

"My mom grew up in a trailer-park," he said, and Lily raised her eyebrows, completely surprised. "She's got…three sisters, and each of those sisters has at least three kids, and…they all live in a trailer-park, or apartments nearby. My mom doesn't talk to them," he added quickly, glancing at Lily. "She's…she's _ashamed_ of them, but…I'm not." He sighed softly. "They're the most honest people I know." He glanced at her, still frowning thoughtfully. "They work hard, but it doesn't always pay off… So how bad was it for your dad that he thought he had to resort to that?"

"Well, m-m-my dad was a m-mechanic. He d-dropped out of school…and m-my m-mom left t-to m-marry him," Lily said. "Th-they were very young when th-they got m-married, b-but…my d-dad had a steady job—until I was about…six, then it g-got d-difficult for th-them, with three k-kids."

"Money," Garrett said succinctly, and Lily glanced up.

"Most p-p-problems in life…are c-caused b-by having n-no money, and c-can b-be solved by—having some," Lily said, and Garrett chuckled softly to himself. "Just something I've observed."

"Better we know it early, right," Garrett said tiredly, glancing at her as he sighed, and Lily nodded sadly. "So, your father's in jail, your brothers were caught stealing a car—your mom abandoned you… It's amazing you're so normal."

Looking down at the sand, sparkling dark-gold in the dying evening sun, Lily couldn't help a shroud of unhappiness settling heavily on her shoulders. She usually felt the touches of it on her shoulders and head, but sometimes it would _press_ on her insistently. "Who says I'm n-normal?" she asked sadly.

Garrett didn't say anything for a little while, but his expression was solemn, thoughtful. "Aren't you?"

"Do you t-think I am?" Lily asked. Garrett tilted his head to the side.

"I think everyone has their ghosts," he said diplomatically. "I wouldn't say you're not normal. I'd say you're…lonely." Lily glanced up, catching his eye; he had removed his sunglasses, and his deep sapphire eyes were earnest, kind, _warm_ as he gazed at her. He was the first person to…to _see_.

"Is it t-that obvious?" she asked embarrassedly, blushing.

"No," Garrett said plainly, walking alongside her. "It's just…when you smile, it doesn't quite reach your eyes." They walked on, Lily too shy to know how to respond elegantly, and she glanced up.

"What's your issue?" she asked.

"Mine?" Garrett smiled wryly, paused for a minute, and sighed. "I didn't always take responsibility for my actions, and… I didn't always make the decisions I knew were best for me. But I'm working on it, now."

"How?" Lily asked curiously.

"I changed my lifestyle," Garrett said, shrugging nonchalantly. "I…stopped doing things I knew were harmful to me, and to other people… And I focused on doing things that make me happy, things that…will help me be the person I want to be." Lily glanced at Garrett. He sounded very…_wise_.

"Me too," she said softly. The person she wanted to be was _happy_. Responsible, financially independent and hard-working, but _happy_, living in a small, clean place with a deadbolt, taking evening classes at a local college…maybe meeting Seth after work to hang out…maybe walking along the beach to wind down after a long day. One of the girls she worked with at the diner, who had illusions of being an interior-decorating guru, claimed that external surroundings influenced internal balances; a place like this could help her achieve the peace she was struggling to find.

"Sandy told me you were thinking about emancipation," Garrett said, after a moment. Lily glanced up, surprised that he knew her plan. "Would you stay around here?"

"I'd l-like t-to," she admitted, glancing around, taking in her surroundings. "It's a b-b-beautiful p-p-place, and…and there's—Seth. I'd…like t-to b-become friends with him… I have enough m-money t-to get set up, and—I've already…l-looked through—classifieds."

"You're a go-getter," Garrett declared, chuckling warmly.

"I have t-to be," Lily sighed tiredly. "It's exhausting." Garrett nodded, as she rubbed her face. Walking along a little further, Lily glanced at Garrett, taking in his pretty nose, his beautiful lips, the way his hair shone vibrantly gold in the sun. "What was Mexico like?"

"It was great, it was just…just me, the surf," Garrett smiled warmly. "I, uh, I worked at a bar right at the end of this gorgeous beach, lived in a little room upstairs; there was only one phone, I sent my parents postcards, surfed in competitions… I was just…disconnected," he said, sounding so wistful and happy, Lily wondered how he'd brought himself to come back. "Living in a way the rest of the world's forgotten." It sounded like something she dreamed of doing, her Fijian _Blue Lagoon_ lifestyle. She was sure a boy like Garrett had found a few equivalents to young Brooke Shields to share his tropical paradise.

"That sounds…" she sighed, shaking her head, and smiled. Perhaps her smile said it all, because Garrett nodded.

"It's what I needed," he said softly.

"Me too," Lily smiled. "I would love t-to do something like th-that."

"Well, if you're looking for work, the bar on that beach would _love_ to hire you as a waitress," Garrett chuckled, grinning, and Lily laughed.

"Don't t-tempt me," she grinned.

"You'd really stay here?" Garrett asked, gesturing around.

"Why not?" she shrugged, gazing around. "Seems like p-p-paradise."

"Yeah, seems like," Garrett sighed. "It _is_ beautiful here. Just…superficial." He frowned thoughtfully, biting her lip as they wandered on.

"Seth's not," Lily said, glancing up. Thinking of the party at the beach, she remembered the luxurious sports-cars, convertibles and expensive _Mercedes_ 4x4s and even the Cohens' _Range_ _Rover_. Garrett drove an 80s _Chevy_ Silverado truck. "You're not," she said softly. "You're not like those boys at that party."

"Not anymore," Garrett said quietly, and Lily raised her eyebrows at him. He smiled subtly. "I used to be worse."

"How so?" Lily asked curiously.

"Well, I didn't…I didn't _fight_, or anything, but… I was a party-boy," Garrett said. "Not like Luke, he's all show, I just…"

"You're a social b-b-butterfly," Lily guessed, and Garrett gave her a glittering smile.

"Yeah. I partied prettily heavily," Garrett said, licking his lips thoughtfully. "It got…old, you know?"

"Yeah," Lily nodded, understanding that perhaps the cake had stopped being worth the bake, so to speak. Hard partying meant killer hangovers, and other…consequences. She hid a yawn, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "That's why I prefer card-games to drinking-games."

"Depends what drinking-games I'm playing," Garrett remarked, glancing at her with a smile. "Truth-or-dare can get as sexy as strip-poker." Lily laughed.

"Oh, really?"

"At least with the rules I've played by," Garrett chuckled, and Lily grinned.

"And what rules are th-they?" she asked. Garrett blushed.

"It's…probably best that I don't tell you," he chuckled deeply, and Lily grinned again. Garrett's teasing, playful little smirk was too delicious. He had the loveliest dimples at the corners of his mouth. His eyes twinkling, his smirk spread to a grin.

"So n-now that you d-don't emulate…Mötley Crüe…what else d-do you do t-to be the person you want t-to be?" Lily asked, noticing herself that her stammer was getting less prevalent when she spoke.

"I'm taking classes to catch up on things I screwed up last year," Garrett said, glancing at her. "I…do more hours at the part-time job I have, now that I'm home. I go after things like surf-competitions that'll help with college. I try and right wrongs that I see happening."

"Like Seth at the party," Lily said, and Garrett smiled.

"Like Seth at the party," he agreed. "And… I spend a lot more time with my cousins, and with my little-sister."

"Are you older th-than Marissa?" Lily frowned thoughtfully, trying to remember whether Garrett and Marissa were twins.

"Technically, yes, by about five minutes," Garrett said, smiling as he glanced at her. "We're twins. But, I mean Kaitlin. She's eleven this summer. So… Do you know what you want yet?"

"Hm?"

"Dark, milk or white chocolate?"

* * *

**A.N.**: Oh, Garrett. For some reason, re-reading Garrett's experience in Mexico, I was reminded of Mike from NCIS, his lifestyle on the beach!


	9. Balboa Bars

**A.N.**: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/made artwork for this story! I really appreciate all the effort. So, I will give you the next chapter as a treat! More Garrett. I know you love him!

* * *

**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_08_

* * *

Garrett gestured a few yards ahead of them, where a tiny shack was located right on the beach, with a simple sign leaning against the structure declaring chocolate-dipped 'Balboa Bars.' A little handwritten sign for bottled-water was painted by the window to the shack and several people were waiting in front of it. Without realising it, they had arrived at their destination—though, Lily realised, there were cars parked right beside it.

She realised Garrett might have wanted the opportunity to talk to her—though why he would want that, when she couldn't even talk properly, she couldn't understand. But she had enjoyed being able to talk to Garrett—because she hadn't frozen up or made as many blunders as she usually did. This whole conversation—it was marvellous to her. Garrett may not know it, may not realise it, but this was the most she had spoken with anyone for _months_, if not longer. The fact that he didn't make her speech impediment a big deal, just go on with it and patiently waited for her to talk, endeared him to her as little else could.

When their turn came to choose, Lily peered into the little shack and was surprised to see shelves of tubs filled with chopped nuts and various candies, and a huge refrigerator filled with chocolate chips that went into the three metal vats that melted it down, and oval vanilla ice-cream bars on sticks.

"_Sexy lady!_" someone crowed joyfully, and Lily glanced up, flushing when she spied _Oscar_, who was grinning from ear-to-ear at her from inside the little shack. He grinned, leaning over the bar to give Garrett a huge hug, and he leaned down to kiss Lily's cheeks in the French style, signing that she looked pretty. Lily flushed, and smiled, signing a hello.

Oscar worked alone in the little shack, dipping ice-creams, sprinkling nuts and candy onto them. Using sign, something he could never indulge in with anybody but his father and Garrett, Oscar told Lily about working at the ice-cream shack whenever he was in town, due to his father coming close to retirement and spending an "obscene" amount of time at home, wanting to hang out with him, but, "he's cramping my style."

"In other words, he's driving Oscar round the bend," Garrett grinned, leaning against the counter.

"So, what can I get for you?" Oscar asked, glancing from Lily to Garrett. "I assume you're not just here for the pleasurable company of the ravishing creature standing before you. By which I mean me, of course." Lily laughed, and Garrett burst out laughing, his deep, rumbling laugh rubbing Lily just the right way, filling her up with a kind of giddy tenderness that made her want to smile.

"Two of your finest experiments," Garrett signed, and Oscar grinned. He paused, frowning at Lily, signing whether she was allergic to anything. She shook her head, and Oscar busied himself inside the little shack, scooping up chopped nuts, diced fruit, brownie crumbles, peanut-butter chips, a bottle of dulce-de-leche and unwrapping two plain vanilla ice-cream bars. Separating the shaved coconut, diced strawberries and brownie crumbles into one folded envelope of wax-paper, he scooped the peanut-butter chips, another scoop of diced strawberries and praline onto the other packet, shaking them both so the toppings mixed; taking one ice-cream bar, Lily wondered how he had perfected the technique of dunking the bars in the melted chocolate, before tucking the chocolate-covered ice-cream bar into the packet of toppings, keeping the stick visible to hold while he shook the rest, so the toppings covered the hardening chocolate.

"So, which do you prefer? Dark or milk?" Garrett asked, taking hold of the two ice-creams by their sticks as Oscar cleaned up the counter.

"Mm…the dark," Lily said, smiling, and Garrett grinned, winking.

"Good, I hate dark-chocolate," he smiled, handing her the chunky ice-cream covered in dark-chocolate, peanut-butter chips, strawberries, praline with swirls of dulce-de-leche beneath the chocolate. Garrett's looked good, with shaved chocolate, strawberries and chewy brownie crumbles with a handful of honey-roasted peanuts embedded in the milk-chocolate.

Lily brought out the ten-dollar bill she always kept in her pocket for emergencies, but Garrett cast it a scornful frown and wouldn't let her pay, though he appreciated her offering. They said goodbye to Oscar and wandered off.

"Thank you, for t-this," Lily said, indicating the ice-cream, and Garrett, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, smiled sweetly.

"Any time," he said, his deep voice beautiful to hear.

"I've n-never had ice-c-c-cream like th-this b-before," Lily said quietly, licking her lips of the partially-solidified chocolate. "It's like a sundae on a stick." Garrett chuckled.

"You like it?" Garrett asked, and Lily hummed, her mouth full. "I'm glad." He smiled at her, and they wandered on. Lily glanced over her shoulder, back at the ice-cream shack, where Oscar's pristine blonde hair glowed as brightly as her own.

They wandered back towards Garrett's truck, the sun lowering as they walked, turning the sky a brilliant orange, touched with fuchsia and gold, the few sparse clouds gilded and glowing. Garrett paused and sat down on the sand, groaning softly as he crossed his legs, and smiled up at her; Lily carefully sat down beside him, making sure her ice-cream didn't melt all over her hand, and as Garrett picked his small Leica camera out of his jacket pocket, Lily licked chocolate off her finger and gazed out at the waves.

"You mind if I finish my roll of film?" Garrett asked, and Lily glanced at him, shaking her head; accepting his ice-cream to hold, Lily licked her lips and gazed out at the glittering water as she bit off a small bite of her own, vaguely aware of Garrett taking her photograph. Hearing cheers from down the beach, Lily glanced down to where a group of girls were playing volleyball in bikini-tops and little shorts, and she had to tuck her hair behind her ear to prevent the breeze whispering it into her ice-cream. When she glanced back at Garrett, he had his camera focused on a beautiful yacht sailing past. He took his ice-cream back, smiling warmly, and they sat, watching several brilliant specks of white float past in the distance, little triangular sails of yachts coasting along on the water. The sky was again the most staggering array of vivid fuchsias, vibrant oranges, touched with purple and the most blinding gold, the few clouds gilt rose-gold and forget-me-not, the sky deepening to navy.

For those precious moments, she didn't think about her mother, emancipation, Ryan, her past, finding a job, a place to live, she just…sat, eating ice-cream in front of the most glorious sunset she had ever seen, and with a boy more handsome than any she had ever met.

"Isn't that one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen?" Garrett said softly, gazing out over the glittering waves, which were crested with frothy, sparkling white surf. Lily gazed out too, finding herself caught up in the moment; it was so _beauitful_.

"Th-thank you for bringing me out here t-tonight," she said softly, gazing out at the sunset as she finished the last of her ice-cream, sucking the chocolate off the stick. She cleared her throat softly, blinking hot tears from her eyes, and sighed shakily. "This is… I wish I c-could stay here forever. This sunset…" Here, this moment, this sunset, with Garrett, that fleeting experience of living in the moment. Living as a fifteen-year-old girl.

"Maybe you can," Garrett said softly, and noticing that he was sucking the last of the chocolate from his ice-cream stick, he caught her eye, and his dimples winked at her as the sun caught his eyes and made them glow a deep and sultry sapphire. Tucking the stick into his pocket, he brought out a very sleek phone, tapping the touch-screen several times, and Lily smiled shyly as he aimed his phone at her. "I only got this phone for the camera. It's HD, it _should_…capture all the colours. Come on, smile." Lily did smile, at Garrett, not at the phone, half turning her face away so he got almost her profile because she'd heard a bark, her eyes still on him. Shuffling around on the sand to sit on her other side, Garrett grinned, getting her to lean against him, and he took a photo of the two of them against the stunning sunset for a backdrop.

When Garrett slid his phone back in his pocket and smiled, Lily couldn't help smiling back, but it turned sad as she sighed. "Th-thank you for tonight. I haven't…spent t-time with anyone l-l-like th-this—for…a l-long t-time."

"Is that a problem for you?" Garrett asked, leaning back against the sand on his elbows. "Having someone to talk to?" he enunciated, when she glanced bemusedly at him. Lily shrugged awkwardly.

"I d-don't have t-time to t-talk to anyone," she said, sighing heavily when she found herself getting worked up. Always, always, that mantel of depression resting on her shoulders put pressure on her, caused her emotions to rile and make her so upset sometimes she had to excuse herself to the bathroom to burst into tears or put her face in a sink of ice-cold water to calm down.

"Why not?" Garrett asked gently.

"I've b-been…working—a lot l-lately," she said quietly.

"Where?"

"At t-the movie the-theatre," Lily said, suppressing a shuddering sigh. "And t-the florist…and the d-diner…"

"You have three jobs?" Garrett sounded impressed, and when Lily glanced up, his expression matched his tone. She had never had anyone look at her like he was looking at her now—as if they were impressed and awed and…and _respectful_, like her working so hard actually _meant_ something to him. She nodded.

"_Had_… I w-worked the breakfass-breakfast shift at t-the diner, the f-florist when I got off there, and t-then I went t-to the movie theatre to—work until…one a.m.," Lily said. Garrett's eyebrows rose.

"Do you eat or sleep at all?" he asked. Lily shrugged. "Judging by how slender you are, I'd say not."

"I'm n-not as skinny as your sister," Lily said quietly; she knew she was very thin, and having a hectic lifestyle was the root of the problem, and she was sure when she stopped working three shifts a day, she would start putting weight back on. That Marissa girl was _way_ too skinny; she was the kind of skinny that made it to tabloids with anorexia warning alerts.

"Yeah. Girl really needs to stop boozing and eat something," Garrett said darkly. "She looks _ill_."

"Do you spend m-much time with her, like you want t-to with Kaitlin?" Lily asked, twisting to lie on her stomach beside Garrett, who bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully.

"Kaitlin still has time to turn into someone halfway decent. Marissa's a lost-cause," he answered, frowning in the dying sun. "She's too wrapped up in herself to see what's going on," he added quietly, almost as if he'd forgotten she wasn't there. "Otherwise she'd stop drinking my dad's money."

"Speaking of th-that…" Lily said, glancing at Garrett, biting her lip. "Ryan had t-to carry her t-to the p-p-p—_little_-house l-last night b-because—her friends…left her on th-the driveway. They c-couldn't f-find her keys, so th-they left her." For a moment, Garrett didn't answer. Then he sighed.

"Doesn't surprise me," he sighed. "I guess while I've gotten a whole lot better, Marissa's been devolving. Anyway…I hope your wages are worth you being so tired. Sandy said you could use some time to relax, unwind."

"He d-did?" Lily asked.

"Kind of made sense why you looked so tired when we met, you've been working all those hours," Garrett said, and Lily flushed embarrassedly; _had_ she looked tired? "So you've been saving up, huh?"

"Some of it. What I c-can," Lily said sadly. Garrett shot her an inquisitive look. "M-my m-mother c-can't…h-hold a job. She—drinks…a lot."

"Don't your brothers help out?"

"No," Lily said quietly. "N-not even Ryan. H-he listens to T-Trey too much."

"You don't?" Lily shook her head vigorously.

"I don't spend t-time with…" She tried to continue speaking, but got so worked up that her throat closed off; thoughts of Trey always precluded verbal paralysis.

"Sounds smart," Garrett said, overlooking her crippling stammer, while her face burned with humiliation. "Is he the one who talked your brother into stealing the car?" He glanced at her, his expression patient, and Lily took the time to formulate her words.

"T-Trey conv-convinces R-r-r-Ryan t-to do a lot of—stupid…things," Lily said, taking a huge breath. "Even t-though Ryan knows he—shouldn't do th-them."

"Well, maybe there's hope for him, if the main cause of the problem has been removed from the situation," Garrett remarked.

"I hope so," Lily sighed. She glanced at Garrett, taking in that elegant nose, those beautiful lips, masculine chin and high cheekbones. Talking about Trey, she had noticed something.

"What is it?" Garrett asked, a slow smile tucking up the corners of his mouth. Lily blushed a little, self-conscious of how easily he seemed able to read her. She ran her forefinger in different patterns through the sand, licking her lips.

Glancing up, she said, "You h-haven't mentioned m-my stammer." Garrett shrugged.

"There's more to you than your stammer," he said simply, smiling. "Just like there's more to Oscar than his hearing-aids." Gazing at Garrett, and the earnest warmth in his eyes, Lily couldn't help herself when a small smile crept across her lips. She flushed warmly, unable to keep herself from smiling.

"So," Garrett said quietly, "you wanna keep walking?"

Lily smiled shyly, nodding, and Garrett climbed off the ground, groaning softly as he did so. From her spot on the ground, Garrett's face was a _long_ way up; standing up, she hadn't realised quite how tall he was, but sitting…he was a giant. He offered his hand to help her up; his large hand encompassing hers, slender, clever fingers curling around hers briefly, he lifted her from the sand, and warmth shot up her arm from her fingertips.

The sun disappearing over the horizon, the sky started going navy-blue, touched with gold on the horizon but a deep, rich eggplant-purple over the hills, and Lily only noticed the chill lacing the breeze when Garrett tucked his suede jacket around her shoulders. They started back down the beach toward the truck, Garrett pausing every now and then to take a photograph, while Lily picked up seashells that had beautiful colours or form, and Lily found herself again living just for the moment, wandering in sometimes companionable silence, sometimes chatting, along a beautiful beach, flushing with warmth whenever Garrett glanced at her.

As they idled down the beach, the sun having set, streetlamps glowed softly as light dwindled, Garrett glanced at her. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"You can," Lily smiled.

"What does Sandy think of your plan for emancipation?" he asked curiously. Lily sighed.

"I th-think he's torn," she admitted, frowning slightly. "His lawyer t-training is warring with his p-p-paternal instincts."

"I guess that's what makes him a good P.D. for kids," Garrett said, and Lily nodded.

"He and Mrs C-c-Cohen have hired a p-p-private investigator to f-find my m-mom," Lily said sadly, glancing at Garrett.

"You don't want to find her?" Garrett guessed.

"We're b-better off without each other," she said quietly. "It's sad t-to say things like th-that out loud, b-but it's…it's t-true."

"Yeah," Garrett sighed. "It's always awful when you know something like that's true… You know, you're the first people Sandy's ever brought home from his office. Guess he likes to keep the line drawn between home and work, especially with some of the people he has to associate with for his job."

"I c-can understand him wanting t-to p-p-protect Mrs C-c-Cohen and Seth," Lily said.

"Sandy's one of the best guys I've ever met," Garrett said quietly.

"He seems…to be that way," Lily nodded in agreement. "I still don't…understand—why he brought me and Ryan h-home in the f-f-first place. Even Wyan's…" She flushed hotly, her stomach roiling unpleasantly as shame swept over. She couldn't even pronounce her brother's name properly. "My bwother…twied to…ask for help when m-m-Mom—kicked us out, but nobody would…give us a place t-to stay."

"He helped me out, when I couldn't call anybody else," Garrett said, glancing at Lily.

"I know the feeling," Lily smiled, but she couldn't help wondering why Garrett, whose parents were wealthy neighbours of Mrs Cohen, would call a public-defender if he was in trouble and…she wondered why he _couldn't_ call anybody else, not that he hadn't.

"Some friends," Garrett said darkly. Lily nodded in agreement, sighing. One night, that was all they had asked for. It would have been enough to make a plan, sort out their finances, buy bus tickets…but no. Even when Ryan had explained their situation, they hadn't done what Mr Cohen—a complete stranger—had.

They reached Garrett's truck, and he unlocked the doors and pulled Lily's open; she smiled, climbing into the cab, and he went around the hood to climb in behind the steering-wheel. Tucking his sunglasses in the glove-compartment and taking out his iPod for a new playlist, Garrett sat for a second, frowning thoughtfully.

"Hey, you know you said you were looking for a job?" he said, and Lily glanced at him, nodding. "I actually know of a place that's hiring."

"You do?" Lily asked hopefully.

"Yeah, it's just part-time, but the guy hires a lot of kids during the summer; I'm sure you could ask for a full-time gig come the fall, when school starts," Garrett said thoughtfully.

"Where's the job?" Lily asked warily.

"It's the record-store down by the pier," Garrett said, glancing at her. "I… I work there part-time, that's how I know Joe's looking for somebody else to take on a few afternoon-shifts a week. I mean, it probably wouldn't get you a full salary to pay the rent and utilities, but it's a start, and if Sam's finally bothered to look for a place of his own since his girlfriend kicked him out, the back room's got a cot in it for anybody who needs to crash, so if you get at all anxious about overstaying your welcome at the Cohens', you could stay there. I can put a good word in for you."

Lily gazed at Garrett. "You'd do that?" she asked softly. Nobody had…_ever_ offered her that. Her old managers always gave her excellent recommendations, but nobody referred her to new jobs. She had to make the effort to find them, and _ask_ for the references. Garrett shrugged, smiling subtly.

"'Course," he said softly. "As long as you don't listen to Justin Beiber. That's the only condition."

Lily frowned. "Who?" Garrett grinned.

"Well, you passed the acid test," he chuckled easily, He jammed the key into the ignition and glanced at her. "What kind of music do you listen to?"

"I don't…have m-much time to," Lily admitted, her shoulders slumping. "B-but I like Adele, and…Led Zeppelin, and—AC/DC…the Bee Gees…T-t-Tom Jones… The Kinks, Jimi…Rolling Stones—Small Faces—F-f-f-Fleetwood Mac. B-b-Beach Boys and Johnny Cash." Garrett gave her a grin, looking highly impressed.

"Kind of surprised you listen to that kind of music," he said thoughtfully. He smiled. "I love it."

"What about you?" Lily asked curiously.

"Me? I listen to all kinds. I've got a lot of moods," Garrett sighed, sending her a warm smile. "Mostly it's rock or punk, a lot of classic stuff. But, as I said, it depends on my mood." Lily nodded. "So, what's your most-played song on your iPod?"

"I don't have an iPod," Lily said, glancing at Garrett. He didn't show any signs of shock; who _didn't_ have an iPod? "I have…three CDs."

"Three." Now, Garrett looked stunned. "You own _three_ CDs?" Lily nodded.

"Adele's '21', Fleetwood Mac's 'Greatest Hits' and a compilation CD of d-different classical and opera songs," Lily said. Garrett looked positively faint.

"Okay, that's it; when you find a place and move in, we are gonna sit down, and you're gonna go through all my CDs and I'll make copies of the ones you like," Garrett said decisively, and Lily chuckled softly. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, catching Garrett's profile from the corner of her eye, and her stomach went all wriggly and warm, pleasant… It was a nice feeling, and completely alien to her. She felt so…_light_. She had smiled more with Garrett in the last hour than she had in the last _month_, and smiling felt…so _wonderful_, using an understatement.

The ride back to the Cohens' neighbourhood was quiet, and the breeze was gentle, warm and comforting as it teased her hair around her face, and Garrett caught her eye and smiled warmly at her before turning his eyes back to the road, the security guard at the gate admitting them, and they blazed to the Cohens' street. Garrett parked his truck on the street, in view of the Cohens' house, and once again Lily was knocked almost breathless by the sight of the Cohens' beautiful home. The music shut off as Garrett disconnected his iPod and tucked it in his pocket, and Lily slid out of the cab, Garrett following suit, and he leaned casually against the front of his car, glancing up at the house, and he smiled when Lily joined him.

"So, uh, I have something for you," Garrett said, reaching into his suede jacket, and Lily stared at him, her cheeks warming.

"B-but you already b-bought me ice-cream," she said quietly, feeling utterly conspicuous with her blush.

"It's not like that," Garrett smiled, and he produced an envelope of recycled-card filled with what looked like several glossy photographs. He offered them to Lily, smiling. "I wrote my number on one of them, in case you…I don't know, if you want to talk, or hang out. Go through my CD collection." He shrugged, smiling, and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. It was already so dark that Lily couldn't see what was in the photographs, but she felt her cheeks warming again and held them close, carefully avoiding smudging her fingerprints all over them.

"Thank you," Lily said quietly. Garrett smiled.

"You want me to walk you to the door?" he asked, and Lily glanced up the Cohens' driveway.

"Uh…no, thank you," Lily said, blushing again. "Wyan and I are actually, er, staying in the Cohens' little-house—and it s-seems like they've already gone t-to sleep, s-so I don't want t-to wake them."

Garrett grinned, and nodded. "Okay. Well, I'll call Joe about that part-time gig, maybe you can meet him sometime in the next few days; I don't know what you're up to.

"Thank you," Lily said again, smiling. "I…I really appreciate it." She appreciated more than just him putting her name forward to his boss; she appreciated that he'd asked her out for ice-cream, that he'd encouraged her to get past her stammer for a full conversation by just not paying attention to the stutter, that he'd spotted her that money at the poker-game, that he had asked whether she wanted him to walk her to the door, to make sure she got inside okay…

Garrett smiled warmly, then checked his watch. "Well, I don't want to miss out on those bonus-points Sandy promised. You'd better get inside." Lily smiled, nodding.

"Goodnight," she smiled softly.

Garrett paused, looking incredibly thoughtful. "Thanks for a really nice night, Lil…" Gazing at her, he canted his head to the side thoughtfully. "I could…really use a few more like tonight."

"Me too," Lily said softly, and Garrett smiled, nodding her up the Cohens' driveway, and Lily went, holding on to the envelope of photographs, feeling her cheeks warming as her smile lingered, she could feel the fine hairs at the back of her neck prickling at the sensation of being watched. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see Garrett leaning against the hood of his truck, arms folded across his chest so casually, and he smiled when he caught her eye. She blushed warmly, glanced away and couldn't stop herself from smiling as she scurried around the side of the Cohens' house, past the air-conditioning units and the trashcans, onto the patio and around Mr and Mrs Cohen's bedroom windows, tiptoeing past, around the pool, and into the little house.

It was dark inside, and seeing the soft amber glow of lamps on in the main house, she assumed Ryan was inside playing video-games with Seth. Suddenly tired, Lily shimmied out of her clothes, into her pyjamas, washed her face, brushed her teeth, plaited her hair, and picked up the photographs Garrett had given her.

They had been taken at the fashion show, and at the beach-party later that night. The first photograph was of Lily between Seth and Ryan, both looking handsome and uncertain, but smiling. There was another of Lily with Mr and Mrs Cohen; one of Lily with Seth, Oscar and Garrett, and another with just Ryan. Garrett had taken a lot of photographs and been captured in a few pictures; his photography was _stunning_. He had taken more photographs of her and Ryan and Seth than Lily had realised; contrasting the candlelit ambiance of the elegant canapé-party outside at the country-club preceding the fashion-show, of which she was sure Garrett had many fabulous pictures, were the photographs of the beach-party. His photography was still stunning, but the feel was different due to the atmosphere at the party. There were photographs of Lily and Seth goofing off and dancing, pictures of the three of them—even a photograph of Seth with a beaming Summer—more pictures of Lily with Garrett that she remembered someone else taking (she supposed they had shared them with Garrett on _Facebook_) and several artistic shots of Lily at the poker-table. One of her favourite pictures was of Lily in the foreground, with Mrs Cohen just behind, both looking at the camera and smiling subtly; Garrett had printed the photograph in black-and-white, and the details were exquisite. They looked stunning.

Another favourite was one of the ones of her with Garrett at the fashion-show. She knew Garrett was handsome beyond anybody she had ever even imagined, but… "My god, you're photogenic," she murmured to herself, staring at the photograph. He looked so…_dashing_, exuding such old-world elegant masculinity, and beside him… She looked…glamorous. The unassuming black dress, the beachy waves and sparse, natural makeup…

She was _smiling_ in the photograph, and Garrett had his hand on her waist; she remembered him drawing her in close, surprising her, before telling her to smile and directing her attention to the camera, almost catching her off-guard. She had smiled, flustered and warm-cheeked, and the camera had caught her shy blush. She turned the photograph over, and found Garrett's little note; '_Garrett and Lily_._ Fashion Show_._ 15 June, 2012_.' He had added his cell-phone number and Lily smiled as she set the handful of shells she had collected from the beach on the bedside cabinet with the photographs, the recycled-card envelope printed with what appeared to be a letterpress that might have been used on the fashion-show invitations, with the date. She leaned over to turn the lamp off and tugging the ultra-soft sheets over her.

She was asleep within minutes.

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**A.N.**: I've decided that Garrett is the _artist_, the music-loving artist who loves to surf and is a lot smarter than his grades show because he didn't like school, and was in a bad place. So, a tortured artist! If you've watched _One Tree Hill_, you'll have an idea of what I want Garrett's bedroom to look like if I say, he's almost a male Peyton!


	10. Gambling on Mexican Cock-Fights

**A.N.**: Please review! Thank you to _Dark-n-Twisty_ and _Soapfan_ for your continued support of this story.

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**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_09_

* * *

"Ryan! Lily!" Sandy called, knocking on the pool-house door and entering, seeking out the two teenagers who had unknowingly plucked at the heartstrings of his family. Sandy didn't feel any better about Ryan going into foster-care than Seth did, but unless Ryan cited he wanted to emancipate himself like his sister—and Sandy was still on the fence about encouraging her to do so, backed up by Kirsten's concerns about the fifteen-year-old going out on her own—he couldn't do anything about his situation.

Sandy knew Seth would hate them for sending Ryan and Lily away—the first two kids who had, to Sandy's knowledge, _ever_ been nice to his son—but he had to acknowledge that…much as he hated it, Kirsten was right. They couldn't just bring in two complete strangers into their home.

No matter how much Sandy was starting to want to.

Didn't matter that Sandy didn't believe they were trouble, or that Seth had for some reason bonded with the completely different Ryan, and the equally dissimilar Lily. It didn't matter that Kirsten, much as she tried to hide it, was softening toward these two kids whose mother had taken the first opportunity to ditch them.

Sandy knew what it felt like to be abandoned by his family; and he saw a lot of himself in both Ryan, who believed he had no future, and Lily, who knew she had a brain and wasn't afraid to put in hard work to do something with her life. He had seen a lot of cases like Ryan's pass across his desk; he had to admit, he was a little intrigued by Ryan, with his philosophies on life. And Lily—he'd never met a fifteen-year-old girl with such inner strength and wisdom; she had the highest test-scores he had ever seen, and if not for her start in life could do anything she put her mind to.

He saw them, and he saw what might have happened if he hadn't been given that one shot to prove himself, the scholarship to Berkeley that had taken him away from the parentless, struggling lifestyle he'd had in the Bronx, to California, and the prettiest girl he'd ever met.

He paused, frowning as he paced past the end of the bed, which was still neatly-made but crumpled, and he peered around… There was Lily's backpack, leather duffel-bag and relic-from-childhood TARDIS lunch-box on the floor, leaning against the side-table as if afraid to dirty the white sofa. The water wasn't running, and anyway, the bathroom door was open, the room beyond empty.

"Ryan? Lily?" He jumped when the foot of the bed stirred. Raising his eyebrows warily, Sandy took hold of the corner of the sheets and pulled them down. A set of enormous sapphire eyes greeted him, peering owlishly from a lovely oval face with beautiful cheekbones, pretty blonde hair tousled and glinting.

Lily had curled up along the foot of the bed, and Sandy was suddenly cast back to an evening years ago when they had returned from a dinner-party to find Seth's bed empty, and his, Kirsten's and the babysitter's frantic search for their hide-and-seek-happy five-year-old, only to find him dug in like a tick in the foot of his and Kirsten's bed, just as Lily slept now.

Lily blinked tiredly up at him, struggling against the cocoon of nine-hundred thread-count cotton sheets, and Sandy chuckled as he helped her out of the nest she had created for herself.

"Hey," Sandy chuckled. "You sleep well?" Lily peered up at him, her cheeks suddenly warming.

"I overslept," she mumbled, sounding _pained_ by the admission. Sandy shrugged. Honestly, he'd planned to take her and Ryan out for pancakes at Seth's favourite diner before taking them to the group-home, so he could explain…explain that, much as he and Seth might want them to live with them, the reality of the situation was far more…complex. He was sure they knew that, though; with their upbringing, Sandy was sure the naïveté Seth had about the situation didn't apply. Sandy knew his son was sheltered; part of the reason he liked having Ryan and Lily around was because Seth had integrated; he had seen his son talking to Oscar, and to Garrett Cooper, he had gone to a _party_ hosted by his schoolmates. He had gotten drunk, yes, and still had a huge bruise on his face from getting into a fistfight…but he'd done those things with Ryan, and with Lily.

"You got back late," Sandy shrugged, grinning. Lily and Garrett Cooper. That boy certainly knew how to go after what he wanted. He and Kirsten had just turned the lights off in their bedroom when the shadow had crept past their windows toward the pool-house. "How was your Balboa bar?"

"It was good," Lily said, sitting up and arranging her pyjamas shyly. "I'm sorry—I sh-should've put an alarm on."

"No worries," Sandy grinned easily. "You were probably all weak-kneed and gushy from your big _date_ with Garrett." Lily blushed, seemingly incapable of stopping herself from smiling, pleased. "He's a gorgeous guy, huh!"

"I like his voice," Lily admitted, blushing prettily. "And his nose…" She frowned thoughtfully. "I liked t-talking with him." She glanced up at Sandy. "Thank you f-for giving him p-p-permission to t-take me out."

"You only get one life," Sandy grinned. "Grab any opportunity you can. I'd say 'by the balls', but that might be a little inappropriate." Lily gave him a smile, half-laughing.

"Might be," she agreed, flushing prettily again.

"Hey, so where's Ryan?" Sandy asked, glancing around. Lily blinked at him, then quickly glanced around the room, taking stock of her bags neatly arranged on the floor by the sofa, the towels folded on the coffee-table for their use, the lawn furniture and pool toys and inflatable chairs stacked precariously against the back wall. A frown drew her fair brows together.

"I didn't…hear him come in last night," Lily said. Sandy frowned.

"What d'you mean?"

"When I g-got back, he was…playing video-games with Seth…I thought," Lily frowned, and Sandy stared back at her when she turned those enormous forget-me-not blue eyes on him. He had just gone to bed when she had returned—though she had come around the house rather than wake them by knocking on the front-door; he had left the lamp on in the family-room for her. Seth had gone to sulk in his bedroom after Ryan had disappeared into the pool-house after dinner.

Slowly, Lily stood, searching under the bed, the sofa, even in the little kitchenette and the bathroom, searching for her brother's things, and turning to stare at him with emotionally deadened eyes, Sandy's insides seemed to weigh him down as they came to the same conclusion. Ryan was gone.

Lily tugged on her ancient Doc Martens—leaving Sandy revisiting memories of the Eighties while battling the overwhelming feeling of dread that his newest client had done something incredibly stupid and reckless and _hurtful_, if the expression on Lily's face as they walked through the house to where she and Ryan had leaned their bikes the night before said anything.

Lily's old-fashioned bicycle—with its sweet little wicker basket attached to the front—remained where it was, leaning on its stand, but Ryan's BMX was gone.

When Sandy caught Lily's eye, he experienced that same look on her face he had seen when he had told her about their abandoned home in Chino. Absolute shame, riddled with heartbreak. There was no denial, no anger, only a dreadful kind of…_acceptance_.

Sandy remembered feeling the same way she had looked, the day his dad had decided to leave.

And he could only imagine this was how his brother and sister had felt, looking at Lily now and seeing the expression on her face, when he had accepted a scholarship to the other side of the country when he was sixteen. Unlike Ryan, he'd had a future to get to. Ryan Atwood had nothing—no family, no vision, no expectations.

"Come on," he said gently, gesturing to the front-door. Back inside, the expression didn't leave Lily's face as Kirsten sauntered into the living-room in her nightgown and robe, and Sandy put his briefcase down on the side-table as he closed the front-door. Kirsten caught his eye, saw the look on Lily's face, and frowned.

"What's going on?" she asked shrewdly, pausing, and Sandy sighed.

"Why don't you go help yourself to breakfast," he said to Lily, who stared at him for a moment, then nodded numbly and just kind of…_drifted_ off, as if her brain was performing too many tasks to tell her limbs to move and they were doing it of their own accord. Kirsten watched Lily go, then fixed Sandy with The Look.

Sighing, he fixed her with a sad stare. "Ryan ran away."

Kirsten flash-glanced from Sandy to Lily's retreated form in the kitchen, her jaw dropping.

"He _ran away_? Where's he gonna _go_?" Kirsten blurted, her eyes widening in horror.

"I don't know," Sandy sighed, shaking his head. He knew the idea of social-services, to a kid like Ryan, seventeen years old and without hope, had to be some kind of special hell. His mother had abandoned him and his sister, and as Seth had said last night…the chances of finding Ryan a permanent home were…_not good_. Seth had said it so poignantly—nobody wanted brand-new teenagers.

Kirsten was on the phone to the cops before Sandy could even properly comprehend what to do next.

"Kirsten!" Sandy groaned, closing his eyes. The police were the last people he wanted involved in this. If he knew anything about kids like Ryan, it was that they didn't trust authority figures and once they'd had their first brush with police, they learned fast how to avoid another. And Ryan was a smart kid. Too smart to believe running away would help any. Sandy sighed and walked into the kitchen, where Lily was taking a steaming cup of frothy milk from the microwave. Her hand was shaking, but her gaze was steady when she glanced up. Her eyes were hurt, stunned.

"We're gonna find him, Lily," he promised sincerely. That kid was too smart to think he could make it on the streets. But thinking back on their conversation the first time they had met, Sandy knew Ryan had only been waiting for the time when he could just give up, as everyone else in his family seemed to have done.

"Sandy, the police are here," Kirsten called, and Sandy sighed; Lily's eyes widened, and her hand shook again as it curled around the steaming cup of milk. A cruiser had pulled up on the driveway, a uniformed officer with a sincere frown of concern etched into his features as Kirsten explained the situation. A seventeen-year-old in their custody had just run away to avoid being sent to child-services and foster-care. Because his mother had abandoned him—just as he had his younger-sister.

"He couldn't have gotten far," the officer assured them. On a bike, unfamiliar to the area, it should be easy for them to find him. "We'll search the neighbourhood."

Catching a flash of movement and a striped polo-shirt, Sandy glanced up and caught sight of Seth, skateboard in hand and his satchel strung over his back, off to work at the comic-book store. Avoiding them, as he had all night.

"Seth, I was just gonna get you," he called, and Seth froze, glancing at them. He squinted in the sunlight at the cruiser, and approached them warily. "We gotta talk about Ryan."

A flicker of surprise flashed across Seth's face and he stared. "Oh." He glanced at Lily.

The police-officer had wanted to ask her questions about Ryan. The poor girl had tried, but the situation had just exacerbated her crippling stammer, and her face had burned with humiliation and shame as the officer had stared at her while she got more upset. Every time she spoke, it seemed to cost her a great effort to get her words out, as flawed as they were in enunciation. Her frustration when she couldn't finish a sentence was palpable. Sandy wondered how she had reached her teenaged years without anyone taking note of her impediment and trying to help her with it. He shot the officer a look, and he turned his attention to Seth, as Lily sank onto the flowerbed wall, her face averted from them while the shameful blush lingered on her cheeks.

"So you have no idea where Ryan might have gone?" the officer asked Seth, and Sandy watched his son carefully as he considered his answer. The son of a lawyer, Sandy had always tried to instil in Seth the importance that, in times of police intervention, saying as little as possible was the wisest course of action—unfortunately, Seth had a very quick wit and a motor-mouth.

"I don't know," Seth shrugged. "He did say something about going down to Mexico and gambling on cock-fights. I don't know what kind of jurisdiction you'd have down there—"

"Quit joking around," Sandy said sternly, rolling his eyes, "and answer his question."

"Yes, I did," Seth blurted, his cheeks reddening as his eyes sparkled. "I really don't know. I do not know the guy… I never got the chance." Sandy caught Kirsten biting her lip, looking anxious and guilty, and Lily gazed despondently at the smooth driveway, the deep flush of shame still lingering high in her cheeks.

The officer finished up, sighing heavily, and the cruiser pulled out of the driveway—hopefully to terrorise the neighbouring Newpsies, a future source for amusement for Sandy. There was nothing Sandy loved more than ruffling a few Newpsie feathers.

"Sorry, I gotta get to work," Seth said, glancing at Lily, guilt settling over his features, and he caught Sandy's eye.

"Hey, Lily, why don't you go inside," Sandy said gently, not liking the expression on her face. "I've got some stuff to do at the office, but if you want, you can stay here and man the phones in case Ryan calls." Lily paused, barely daring to raise her eyes to his face, and nodded subtly.

While a quiet sort, there was a strength and determination in Lily, and he knew—because of how vividly she and her brother reminded him of himself—she wouldn't be going anywhere without knowing her brother was okay. Kirsten shot Sandy an expressive glance, and Seth boarded down the driveway and out of sight.

"He's still mad at me," Kirsten said quietly, and Sandy glanced at his wife. Their son had _never_ taken to two kids faster than he had Lily and Ryan—and it had been a long time since anyone had taken a shine to Seth. Kindergarten, Sandy believed it had been. Before the threesome consisting Garrett, Oscar and Seth had been honed down to the inevitable twosome, unintentionally excluding Seth.

"He'll understand," Sandy shrugged, though even he didn't really believe that. He sighed heavily. "I'm gonna call my contact at Child Services, explain the situation, then make a few calls to local youth-hostels and the hospitals."

"What about Lily?" Kirsten asked quietly. Sandy glanced at his wife, and they shared a look, and a nod. They would rather have her here, where they could keep an eye on her, than let her go off to a strange new place while her brother was up in the ether. They'd had a few discussions about Lily—about what kind of a mother Dawn Atwood was that her fifteen-year-old daughter had had to play the parent, paying the mortgage and the bills while she pulled triple shifts and wanted to legally divorce her and live alone. Sandy found it a little amusing; Kirsten wished her sister Haley was even a fraction as responsible and mature as Lily, ten years her junior.

In his office, Sandy picked up his phone, and had to go through the gruelling motions of phoning his contact, the local youth-hostels, shelters, and the hospital, in case anyone meeting Ryan's description had shown up. They had no idea what kind of a time advantage Ryan had over them—for all they knew, he could have run away last night when Seth was in bed and Lily was out getting ice-cream with Garrett. But without any money—and Lily had checked her _staggering_ cash stash and found none of it missing—there was only so far the teenaged boy could go on his bike.

"Call me if someone meeting that description comes in," Sandy said, grappling with the phone as he slung a legal-pad into his briefcase. "Thank you." Hanging up, he glanced at his wife. She looked very pretty in a dove-grey t-shirt, palest-cream cashmere cardigan and those tight little dark jeans Sandy loved on her so much. "Nothing at the hospitals."

"I'm sure he'll turn up," Kirsten said, her faith in the flawed legal system unnerving Sandy. He knew the police, knew the system, and knew a kid like Ryan…

"That'd be smart," he sighed, frowning at the staircase. He knew his son was king of double-talking his way out of awkward situations, confusing everyone but himself. He always employed the confusion backtalk for when he was keeping secrets. "I think Seth knows where he is."

"Are you accusing him of lying?" Kirsten asked, raising her fair brows. "That'll be really good for your relationship… Let the police handle this."

"I wish you hadn't called the police," Sandy groaned. "They don't have the resources or the manpower. Ryan will just slip through the cracks." Kirsten paused in attaching a glittering diamante necklace around her throat, the light catching it and making it sparkle beautifully against her fair skin.

"Sandy, how many of these cases have you seen, have passed across your desk?" she asked quietly, peeking into the kitchen as something rustled. She frowned thoughtfully and approached him, canting her head to one side. "What is it about these kids?"

Sandy sighed heavily, his shoulders drooping as he sat on the arm of the sofa. "I thought I could help 'em. Make a difference," he shrugged, shaking his head. "_I_ was these kids. If someone hadn't helped me…I wouldn't be here." He smiled up at her, and Kirsten smiled as she leaned down and brushed a kiss to his cheek. All he had needed was one lucky break, and he had made quite a life for himself out of the academic scholarship he had been granted at Berkeley. He had just…wanted to give Ryan and Lily the same opportunity.

"So, what's gonna happen with Lily?" Kirsten murmured. Sandy sighed heavily.

"Well, I'm gonna head to the office, see if I can dig up info on her dad," Sandy shrugged, "and see if I can begin the process for emancipation."

"Emancipation?" Kirsten's eyes widened. "You mean divorcing her parents? What about her mother?"

"She doesn't want to find her," Sandy said softly, and Kirsten's eyes, if possible, widened even further. Sandy sighed heavily. "She's done all the math, looked through the classifieds for a place to live and jobs to apply for; she wants to get her GED by herself, take classes at community-college, and she's more than capable of managing her time and income to support herself…"

"She's fifteen," Kirsten said, stunned. Sandy sighed again.

"She doesn't seem fifteen," he said sadly, glancing at his wife. "She seems more like thirty-five." Kirsten nodded sadly.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she said sadly. "She looked so…_tired_ when she first got here." Sandy nodded, agreeing; he'd seen the tired-eyed blonde girl perched on the cinderblock wall with Ryan, and expecting them to be twins was surprised to see how _old_ Lily's eyes were, contrasting her stammer, which made her seem more youthful.

"I tell you, if all the kids I represent had a plan like Lily's, I wouldn't have a job," Sandy said, glancing toward the kitchen.

"Well, then it's a good job she's so rare or I'd have to kill you," Kirsten smiled easily, and Sandy grinned. "I couldn't have you wandering around the house in your robe and black socks every day."

"Barefoot, baby, barefoot!" Sandy chuckled, and Kirsten smiled. She sighed and glanced over her shoulder at the kitchen archway. Catching his eye again, she sighed.

"Listen, I can work from home this morning," she shrugged. "I'll keep an eye on Lily. She can stay…as long as she needs to," she added grudgingly. Sandy beamed as his wife leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you," he said earnestly. Kirsten smiled, and kissed his cheek again. "I gotta get to work. You gonna be okay here with Lily?"

"Yeah," Kirsten smiled. "We'll have a chat and try to figure some things out."

"I knew I married you for a reason," Sandy grinned, and Kirsten rolled her eyes amusedly as he left the house.

* * *

Kirsten hadn't spent much time with either of the Atwood kids. Given his record, she was a little anxious around Ryan, fearing a bad influence on Seth; Lily was just so quiet, so…so _haunted_. Her speech impediment was blaringly obvious whenever she tried to speak and reach out, and the fact that she didn't speak most of the time only made her silence more obvious, when compared to chatterbox Seth.

But Kirsten had enjoyed spending time with Lily the other night, getting ready for the fashion-show. She and Sandy had wanted more kids, but for some reason they had never gotten pregnant again after Seth; she missed spending time with Haley, but giving Lily a makeover had been different to getting Haley ready. It was a luxury for Lily; she had taken everything in with a wide-eyed wonder, anxious about Kirsten having spent money on her, but Kirsten had been speaking the truth when she'd told Lily she'd enjoyed spending time in the girls' side of _Abercrombie_, trawling _Sephora_ for makeup she was a little mature to wear… It was nice to have spent money on someone who was staggered by the cost, and appreciated it. Lily was the first girl Kirsten had ever met who appreciated and understood the value of money. But she was fifteen; she shouldn't know how to budget for the mortgage and health-insurance out of her wages.

It was amazing to Kirsten that Lily was only a teenager. She had the maturity of a much older woman, much more mature than Kirsten could ever wish Haley to be, one who had seen too much and far too early. Quiet and incredibly polite, with the best table-manners Kirsten had ever seen, she was unbelievably mature, Lily was nevertheless still a child, and her maturity was all the eerier because she was so young: she drank little glasses of warmed milk before bed, and kept close to her brother, as if using him as a human comfort-blanket, which was understandable, given that she was amongst complete strangers, and used him as a mouthpiece—or let him speak for her—because of her speech impediment.

There was none of the innocence and naïveté in her that Seth had, none of the winsomeness that made his daydreams adorable and captivating; her eyes were too intelligent, and it seemed to Kirsten that she had lived through too much to retain any of the innocence and naïveté that her youth should have been hers by right because of her age. She had never realised how special Seth's naïveté was, until having met Lily and realising how staggering it was not to see a child with that dreaminess.

Kirsten was used to teenaged girls with brilliant, dazzling smiles, who were under-parented, over-indulged and completely self-aware. She wasn't certain how to approach a strange, quiet young girl too old for her age, and with that deer-in-the-headlights look.

She found Lily in the kitchen, with a little cup of warmed milk and a very tired-looking mini notebook. She had that same haunted, incredibly hurt look about her, but she didn't look like she was going to cry; knowing what she did about Lily, both from Sandy's files and her conversation with Lily the other day, Kirsten had come to think that this girl was…_strong_. If, after pulling three shifts a day, Lily hadn't broken, Kirsten wasn't sure what would make her crack. It would have to be something incredibly terrible. She stared down at the little book and Kirsten approached the island.

"What's that you've got there?" she asked gently.

"My address-book," Lily said quietly, running her thumb over the tired front page. She traced the edges of the hardened cover, the corners tattered from extensive use and old-age, and she didn't seem able to meet Kirsten's eye. "He didn't even leave a note," she half-whispered, and Kirsten saw her shoulders perceptively droop

Kirsten reached into back of the wine cellar cabinet, to the little box she kept hidden there, and handed a mini-box of _Milk Duds_ to Lily. Her secret stash, she produced candies for Seth when he least suspected it, or when he really needed the sugar-rush. And the look on Lily's face, she _really_ needed a little treat.

"Well, um, Sandy has gone to his office," Kirsten said, bothered by the fact that it bothered her that this girl's mom had abandoned her, and that Lily had such an awful home-life that, at fifteen, she wanted to emancipate herself and live as an adult.

"I'm gonna do some work in the living-room on my computer, doing some paperwork, so if you want to use your phone, I'll use my cell-phone… Do you need anything?"

Lily shook her head, blushing shyly, and licked her lips. "No, thank you."

"Okay, well, the kitchen's fully stocked. Help yourself if you want anything," she said. "Seth has a huge collection of movies and video-games." Lily nodded again, attempting a smile.

Kirsten watched her carefully all morning. It was difficult to gauge Lily's reactions because she was such a quiet, reclusive little thing, and Kirsten had met her only four days ago, but as the hours wore on and Lily forced herself to make phone-calls to her family's contacts, her speech impediment got thicker and thicker from emotion until she couldn't speak at all, no matter how many times she opened her mouth, no matter how long she struggled to make even the tiniest of noises.

Several times Kirsten had seen her lip trembling. Kirsten had never had a communication problem like Lily's, and couldn't understand what the poor girl was going through, but she knew every time she saw Lily's frustrated, shameful face, a little part of her gave way with a crushing feeling in her chest; she couldn't bear to see that little girl suffering so much, but had no clue how to help her.

"Sweetie, why don't you leave off the phone-calls for a little while," Kirsten suggested quietly, creeping into the kitchen tentatively, seeing Lily hunched over the phone-dock. She moved closer to Lily, laying a hand gently on her arm and rubbing it up and down comfortingly when Lily didn't shirk away from her. "Go and have a seat in the den, okay."

Panting softly for breath, still overwhelmed from her last forced phone-conversation gone awry, Lily nodded, not looking at her, and walked to the den, disappearing. Kirsten was only good with her son; Seth was very easy to handle, since he made his emotions no stranger to them, and could be cajoled with food into talking; whenever he was particularly upset, a trip to the comic-book store and his favourite Thai takeout loosened his lips and let them talk out what was upsetting him.

Kirsten couldn't imagine not having anyone to talk to, and then, with Lily's speech impediment—which got worse and worse the more Lily tried to communicate and the more frustrated she got because she couldn't, couldn't even communicate what was upsetting her.

She peeked into the den and glimpsed Lily. She sat on the sofa, knees and ankles together, staring down at her hands folded in her lap. Still not dressed out of her pyjamas, she fiddled with the hem of her t-shirt, and her expression was…desolated. That little girl, too old for her age, was unhappy, and couldn't tell anyone about it. She had been the same way when Kirsten had first seen her, in the pool-house, hiding behind her brother, the same solemn, expressionless…depression, cloaking her beautiful features.

This little girl was alone, couldn't talk to her mother—couldn't talk at all—and everyone in her life had abandoned her. Kirsten had never felt anything close to what that poor girl must be feeling, but she had known bereavement and loneliness, and heartbreak; she walked into the den, sighing, and squatted down in front of Lily. Having no daughter of her own, only a much-younger sister whom she had practically raised during the later years of her adolescence, Kirsten knew a little about talking to a teenaged girl. A spoiled, entitled girl, but a teenaged girl nonetheless.

Kirsten pursed her lips thoughtfully, wondering how to begin, and sighed, looking Lily in the face. "You're not happy, are you, sweetheart."

Lily burst into tears.

Kirsten was shocked by how instantaneous her response was; her eyes swimming with tears, her hands shook violently and her lower lip trembled as tears streaked down her face.

She shook her head, closing her eyes, and more tears tracked down her cheeks. Kirsten reached out and took one of Lily's trembling hands; her expression mutilated into deepest misery, and she grasped Kirsten's hand. Her body language turning utterly defeated, her expression dashing Kirsten's heart into a thousand pieces as her shoulders dropped and her legs shook, tears streaming freely down her face, she cried, "W-why d-did he leavet-too?"

"We'll find Ryan, sweetheart," Kirsten promised softly, shocked by how deeply depressed this girl was. Strangers they were, but until now Lily had deceived everyone in Kirsten's family into thinking it was her mother kicking her out of the house that had her upset. There had to be a lot of deeper issues that had built up inside Lily, without her having the ability to talk about it to a single person.

"H-he…_left_," Lily cried, her lip trembling. Her pretty nose was going red, and her eyes, swimming with tears, were clenched shut, her thick lashes clumping into triangles, tears glistening on her skin. Her eyes closing, tears streaked down her cheeks, and she half-whispered, "W-why…why aren't I g-g-good…en-enough?"

Lily was trembling all over, her body responding to the intense mental grief she was going through; her lower-lip trembled violently as more tears streaked down her cheeks, releasing a choked breath. "I-it t-t-took m-me _ages_ t-to r-run away…" she choked, raising a hand to her eyes to knead her palm into her eyes, her hand glistening with her tears when she dropped it, revealing her inconsolable expression; "W-w-we were sup-p-p-pposed t-to b-be safe t-t-to_gether_." She choked, struggling to speak, her throat muscles working and making no sounds. She choked out a few sobs and cried terribly. She raised a hand to roughly wipe the tears from her eyes. "H-he d-doesn't n-need me, but I n-need _him_. _He's m-my only f-friend_! …And n-now h-he's g-gone and l-left t-too, and I don't…k-know w-what I—d-did! He d-didn't even s-say goodb-b-_bye_!"

She and Sandy had had to deal with similar breakdowns with Seth over the years, but none had come even close to this level of desolation.

"Come here, sweetheart," she finally managed, going onto her knees to get closer to the little girl, motioning her into a hug, and cradling the sobbing girl's head against her shoulder, stroking her marvellously soft, fragrant hair. Her body was still shuddering under the strength of her emotional anguish, coupled with the shudders her crying and soundless sobs wracked through her.

She couldn't let this girl go off by herself, emotionally overextended and physically incapable of expressing herself; this unhappy, already on the verge of breaking, and concealing just how close she was to the edge.

She hugged Lily to her, smoothing her hair, and as the teenager started to calm down, Kirsten gently rocked her. It was a long time since she had done this with Seth—or Hailey—but this, the hug, had her thinking back to memories of when Seth was little, bullied at school for being…_different_.

It brought back memories from high-school, fighting with Jimmy, her mother coming in with a pot of her favourite tea, talking for hours after crying out all her anguish and upset.

When Lily finally sank away from her, her expression was desolate, but resigned, miserable, but no longer crying. Her eyes and the tip of her nose red from crying, tear-marks still streaked down her cheeks, and her eyelashes clumped together. Kirsten didn't know what scared her most; the inconsolable crying, or the heavy, resigned silence. Her expression was so heartbreaking, Kirsten could hardly bear it.

It was times like this that she could really have used her mother around. Kirsten was a poor replacement for her mother, but she remembered what her mother would have said if she was here. She would have stayed with Lily all day, curled up on the sofa with a blanket, not even talking, just cuddling. She would say her family's mantra, something _her_ mother had told her, something her mother's mother had told _her_ daughter.

"Sweetheart, I want you to listen to me," Kirsten said quietly, and it seemed like it cost Lily a great effort to lift her crying-heavy eyes to her face. The prettiest shade of smoky periwinkle had dulled with depression, and Kirsten reached out and tucked a lock of Lily's beautiful shimmering blonde hair behind her ear. "I'm gonna tell you something that my mother told me, okay: You are _beautiful_, you are _intelligent_, and you are _loved_."

Lily looked down at her hands—one of which was still curled around Kirsten's—and bit her lower-lip, her eyes sparkling with tears again. Kirsten looked into her face, searching the flawless features.

"Do you hear me?" she said gently. After a moment, Lily nodded, her jaw clenching slightly. Kirsten stroked her hair over her shoulder, and sighed.

"Lily, we'll find Ryan," Kirsten promised. They had hired a private investigator to find Dawn Atwood, but with the way she had treated her children, and the way Lily was determined to get away from her, Kirsten thought it might be more worth their while to ask him to find Ryan instead.

What kind of mother abandoned her children?

What kind of a parent neglected their child so long that her reaction to one tiny bit of concern was so violently unhappy?

Every girl deserved to talk to her mother—every little girl had the _right_ to talk to her mother. Yet how could her mother have not noticed she was so unhappy?

Her own mother had died years ago—and every day, something happened to make her remember her; sometimes Seth did something or she was having trouble with Sandy, and she'd actually pick up the phone and be halfway through dialling her mom's old phone-number when she remembered that nobody would answer. Nobody _could_ answer.

But if she had still been alive, one ring from Kirsten's number, and a word about Lily, and she would be over here in a breath, sorting out everyone's problems. That was the way Kirsten's mother had been; had to be, to live with Kirsten's father for so long. She wouldn't have left Lily's side until she had the young girl smiling and giggling—but Kirsten knew a lot of work would have to go into helping Lily overcome a _lot_ of obstacles before she would be _happy_.

She reached out and brushed the tears from Lily's cheek with the backs of her fingers. "Why don't you go and get showered? Hot-water and fresh clothes always make me feel a little better when I'm having a bad day," she said, and Lily nodded numbly.

"I… I will," she said quietly, laboriously unfolding from the sofa. When she had disappeared to the pool-house, Kirsten poured herself a cup of coffee, frowning through the kitchen-window over at the 'little-house', as Lily had dubbed it.

She knew Seth would love nothing more than to have these two mysterious, _kind_ teenagers move in with them. But of all Kirsten's fears for her son, the chief amongst them was Seth being hurt by being under the wrong person's influence. Much as he liked to believe otherwise with his witty anecdotes and harsh social criticisms, Seth was still a kid, who, despite his academic intelligence, was still grasping common-sense and was easily influenced. Kirsten was afraid Seth would fall under bad influences and be hurt. That was her most terrifying nightmare, and though she knew she would win no points of popularity from her son in sending the Atwood kids away from their family, she was just trying to protect Seth.

She couldn't think about Ryan and Lily's mother without wanting to take a swing at her with the full coffee-jug, but despite her guilt and shame—shame for their mother for abandoning them—she would not allow those feelings to override her common-sense in wanting to keep Seth safe. She just…couldn't understand any mother who _didn't_ do anything in their power to protect their children.

And as much as she kept trying to tell herself that she wasn't softening toward those kids, that it wasn't her and Sandy's place to take in every unloved stray, she couldn't deny that she was worried for Lily. She was worried for the safety of that beautiful, unhappy young girl, the girl who was really a woman, with far too much responsibility on her shoulders. Her mother wouldn't have let Lily out of her sight; after that breakdown, knowing what she knew about Lily's past, a history of abuse and abandonment, it had to be hitting her incredibly hard that the last remaining member of her family had now left her too.

The phone rang, and Kirsten jumped for it, her heart leaping into her throat. "Cohen residence."

"_Hey, Kirsten, it's Jimmy_."

"Oh, hey Jimmy," Kirsten smiled, fighting the disappointment that it wasn't news about Ryan, and the surprise that she felt disappointed. "How are you?"

"_I'm good, listen, uh, I hate to ask, but, um…I need your help with something_," Jimmy said nervously.

"Of course," Kirsten said, surprised. She heard what sounded like Julie's voice, muffled from distance, and Jimmy stammered.

"_Um, are you free for lunch_?" he asked.

"Um, yeah, I have Lily here with me while Sandy's at the office, but, uh, lunch sounds great," Kirsten smiled. Though they had been friends for years, it was sometimes awkward, especially when Sandy and Julie were around, and discovering Jimmy was meeting her for lunch, alone, was only recipe for a catty Newpsie gossip-ring stoked by Julie Cooper's wrath.

"_Lily? Those kids are still staying with you_?" Jimmy asked curiously.

"Well, one of them," Kirsten sighed. "It's a long story."

"_Well, I look forward to hearing it_," Jimmy said pleasantly. "_Shall I come by in about half an hour? We could head to the club_."

"That sounds great," Kirsten said. "See you then, Jimmy." Hanging up, she sighed and glanced through the panoramic windows overlooking the ocean to the pool-house, where a shadow dawdled past the windows, folding a towel.

The doorbell rang, and Kirsten went to go and answer the door; for the second time in twelve hours, Garrett Cooper stood on her doorstep. "Garrett! Hi!" she beamed.

"Hi, Kirsten," Garrett smiled warmly. As a little boy, Garrett had always been incredibly sweet, very polite, and affectionate; only because of Sandy helping him out did Kirsten know that Garrett had gotten up to a lot of trouble in the last year or so, but now she also knew that he had come out of that phase, and was making a conscious effort to be a good person. He was incredibly charming, very sociable, but had this _stillness_ to him, he was mellower now than he had been in the last few years; he was so incredibly handsome, and had such personal charm and _presence_, that he broke more than a few hearts, with the girls at school and even amongst Kirsten's Newpsie friends. Kirsten couldn't help but love him; he had turned into a very _nice_ boy. Which was amazing, considering who his mother was.

He leaned in to kiss her cheek as she hugged him, that tiny dimple winking in his cheek as he smiled. "I wish I could think it was me who has you coming over to my house for the second time in twelve hours," Kirsten smiled, "but I think I know what's got you coming over here. Or should I say, _who_." Garrett grinned amiably.

"Yeah, uh… Is Lily here?" he asked, his deep voice resonating on the quiet air.

"Um, she _is_, but…" Kirsten winced, unsure what to tell him. "She was just…getting showered. It's…been a strange morning."

"Is everything okay?" Garrett asked, concern flickering across his staggering features.

"Uh…it will be, I hope," Kirsten sighed, hands on her waist. Quiet footsteps sounded behind her; a small voice said, "Hi," and Kirsten glanced over her shoulder. Lily, freshly showered with her pretty hair blow-dried and wearing a new threadbare cotton t-shirt, this one a pale periwinkle-lilac that made her smoky blue eyes glow warmly, stood glancing from Kirsten to Garrett.

"Hey," Garrett said warmly, a rich smile making his deep navy eyes glitter. Kirsten observed how earnest his smile was when he saw Lily, how a gentle blush was warming the colour in Lily's cheeks, and privately wondered how long it would take for the two to get together. Glancing at Lily, she saw how shy she was, wondering what to say or do…

"Hey, so I, uh, I talked to Joe," Garrett said, gazing at Lily. "My boss, you know? He'd like to meet you. I'm just about to head off for my shift, and I thought, if you're not doing anything…maybe I could give you a lift down to the pier."

"Your boss?" Kirsten asked curiously, glancing at Garrett.

"Yeah, at _Empire_," Garrett smiled. "Lil said she's looking for work, and Joe has a few shifts he needs somebody for, so…I thought, it's a start." Kirsten blinked, glancing at Lily, who stood quiet and shy, her eyes widening a little.

"T-today?" she asked, and her voice was hoarse and scratchy from crying. Garrett swept a careful, thoughtful look over Lily's features, and nodded.

"I mean, if that's okay; if you have plans, you can just stop by sometime soon," Garrett shrugged easily, smiling. Glancing at Lily, Kirsten saw a lot of thinking going on, and Lily bit her lip, glancing at Kirsten, as if asking for permission to go. With her breakdown only a half-hour ago, Kirsten was a little anxious about letting Lily out of her sight, but she was sure Lily wouldn't want to run off if she thought they would get any news of Ryan; more to the point, she had a plan and wanted to stick to it. She wouldn't be running away, when her attorney had the power to get her the emancipation she required for her plans to work. But, she supposed that next to official emancipation, a job and a place to live were paramount, so she wouldn't prevent Lily seeking opportunities that could help her get on her feet.

"Well, I have to meet someone for lunch and stop by the office this afternoon," Kirsten said, smiling subtly. "If you want to go, maybe I can pick you up later this afternoon on my way home from work?"

"Okay," Lily said softly. "I'll j-just g-go g-get my backp-p-pack."

"I'll get you some snacks," Kirsten said, starting toward the kitchen. "Come in, Garrett. Do you want anything? Coffee, chips?"

"Um, no, I'm good, thanks," Garrett said, smiling warmly. "I've gotta pick up _In N' Out Burger_ for everybody when I get there, so…"

"They take care of you at Empire, don't they," Kirsten smiled, half-laughing.

"Got to; Joe understands that a hungry teenager is a crabby teenager," Garrett said, and Kirsten chuckled. "Besides, half of us come in stoned, so we're usually always foraging for snacks." Kirsten grinned, glancing at Garrett; she missed those days, when she was young, had no responsibilities, nothing but Sandy, their mail-truck.

"Enjoy it while you're still young," she smiled.

"Yeah, Dad says you used to eat your weight in nachos when you were stoned," Garrett said, with a twinkling grin, and Kirsten turned to gape at him, her cheeks warming.

"Your dad told you that?" she chuckled softly.

"Well, no, Grandpa did; he found my stash once and gave me ammo so Dad wouldn't have a leg to stand on," Garrett grinned, and Kirsten laughed as she went through the pantry, which was stuffed with every nice thing Seth loved.

"And did you smoke up with your grandfather too?" Kirsten asked, grinning, remembering Jimmy's amazing dad.

"He told me off for rolling the joint wrong," Garrett said, glancing at Kirsten with a half-grin, and Kirsten laughed as she grabbed a handful of granola-bars, Fruit Leathers, a bag of _Goldfish_, and grabbed a little Ziploc baggy from the cupboard, filling it with _Redvines_, _Mike & Ike's_, peanut _M&Ms_, cookies and some of the dried dates she had seen Lily eat for a snack yesterday, sealing the little bag.

"I always loved your grandpa," Kirsten smiled fondly. Jimmy's dad had always been the most fun, gentlemanly man she had ever met; he had been flirty and fun but earnest, and dependable when a shoulder was needed to lean on. "How's he doing?"

"Good, I think," Garrett nodded. "I haven't seen him since I've been back, but we exchanged postcards and letters while I was away. Apparently he's got a new girlfriend."

"Oh, really?" Kirsten grinned.

"Yeah, he's her boy-toy," Garrett laughed richly, and Kirsten laughed, shaking her head. "They met in the sauna at his favourite golf-course, and he bought her an iPod. She's a good kisser." Kirsten laughed again.

"Oh, your grandpa!" she chuckled.

"You know, I can't listen to 'She's a Lady' and 'You Should Be Dancing' without thinking of you and Sandy dancing with Grandpa on New Year's Eve," Garrett grinned, eyes sparkling, and Kirsten groaned, smiling.

"I haven't been that drunk since I was twenty-three," she giggled softly, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry we put you through Sandy's karaoke performances."

"Are you kidding? I thought he was fantastic," Garrett laughed. "Best New Year's Eve I've ever had."

"Well, your grandpa, plus a surprise visit from Cindy will always stir up the excitement," Kirsten smiled.

"That's putting it mildly," Garrett grinned. "Oh, I almost forgot; I'm gonna drive down to Palm Springs to pick up Grandpa, so he can come to your dad's birthday-party." Kirsten glanced up, beaming.

"Oh, you are? That's _great_! Oh, my dad will be so happy he can come!" she beamed. "Oh, did you want to go out into the garden? Our fig-tree is looking sorely overloaded with fruit."

"Mm," Garrett grinned, eyes lighting up. "I'll have to raid it after work."

"If Lily doesn't beat you to it," Kirsten smiled, as Lily entered the kitchen, tucking a fresh orange from the tree and a handful of figs into a mesh outer-pocket of her backpack. She glanced up, eyebrows raised inquisitively, and Kirsten smiled. "Talking about the fig-tree. Here." She handed Lily the baggy of candy, the Goldfish, granola-bars, and brought out a bottle of iced tea from the refrigerator, handing it to Lily, watching her features carefully.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked quietly; Lily glanced up, licked her lips, and nodded subtly.

"I'll b-be fine," she said softly.

"Okay. Well, call me when you'd like a lift home," Kirsten said, watching Lily anxiously. "I'll call you at Empire if I hear anything." Lily nodded silently, and Garrett shot Kirsten a smile before leading Lily out of the house; Kirsten noticed she bore a smart black document portfolio, and wondered what she kept in it.

A little anxious that Lily had gone out, so soon after a meltdown, Kirsten remained alone in the silent house for the first time since Sandy had brought Ryan and Lily home on Thursday night. It was odd just how quiet the house felt without the kids there. She had time to stop, to reflect, to wonder whether it was her fault Ryan had taken off on his own, to wonder whether she could actually do it, let Lily go off and live by herself. Could she have Seth be mad at her, resentful that the only friends he'd ever made had been kicked out of the house because she thought they were a danger to him?

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**A.N.**: Please review!


	11. A Promotion

**A.N.**: A very long chapter! You must profess your undying love for me in thanks for me writing it! Lily gets a job; and an application for another job; and she spends a little time with Garrett, and with Kirsten.

I am loving that now keeps data available for perusal on who's Alerted this story! I can track you all down!

Please review!

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**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_10_

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Lily knew her and Ryan's presence in the Cohen house had disrupted their normal flow; she knew they had caused tension between Seth, who wanted to keep them around, and his parents, who were looking at things logically and doing what was best for his safety and wellbeing. Ryan leaving had only caused them more problems.

Wherever Ryan was, Lily wasn't afraid that the police would pick him up. She was terrified but resigned that Ryan would be discovered in a hospital somewhere. Like most of the men Lily had ever known, Ryan couldn't use his brain where his fists would work just as fine and far easier. He had a volatile temper, a very short fuse, and had never before won a fight. He jumped into situations with his fists flying, instead of taking a step back to gauge the situation and look at a solution from every angle. Being smart wasn't something that got you anywhere in their neighbourhood. Being a smart-_mouth_ was even worse, but she and Ryan had learned early to keep their mouths shut and hide under the bed when things got rough and the insults and fists were flung like glasses filled with cheap alcohol.

He hadn't even said goodbye.

After everything they had gone through—not just this last weekend, but their entire lives, being jerked around by Trey, pushed and shoved by their passive-aggressive, angry drunk mother's boyfriends, ignored and neglected by their mother—he had just _left_ her.

Suddenly she didn't know her brother at all.

She could have believed this of her mother—she _expected_ it from Dawn. But Ryan? He was a troublemaker, but an honest one, and he was smarter than he gave himself credit for. He was better than Dawn and Trey combined, the go-to guy in their neighbourhood for kids who needed help. Taking care of people, looking out for them, had somehow been hardwired into his brain.

Lily had never believed Ryan capable of looking out only for number one.

Feeling drained from her breakdown earlier, she sat in the cab of Garrett's truck, silent and upset.

Last night she had felt…almost invincible. Things had been…_good_. She had had ice-cream with a beautiful boy who was as kind as he was good-looking, Mr Cohen had given them his word that he would help them, and…for the first time in ages, people _saw_. It had been less than twelve hours ago that Garrett had picked her up for ice-cream; they had spent the evening walking the beach and _talking_. Today was such a different day, it felt like a month ago she had enjoyed that ice-cream.

Last night, Garrett had seen she wasn't happy. Mrs Cohen, a complete stranger, had witnessed her breakdown, when nobody in her family even realised she cried in the shower every day. She had hugged Lily—something Lily hadn't experienced since…the last time she'd seen her dad. Atwoods weren't huggers, but she had been her daddy's little sweetheart, and he'd always cuddled with her in his lap, reading to her. She was the only one in her family who took pleasure in reading, and it stemmed from the comfort she had once gained from cuddling in her dad's lap, listening to his warm voice at her ear, his rough large hands with his grease-stained fingers holding her.

She sat, reflecting: her mother had abandoned them, her brother was missing, her other brother was in jail and Mr Cohen was searching records to find out which prison her father was in. It felt surreal to sit in the truck, listening to Jimi Hendrix, the blistering sun caressing her skin as the breeze played with her hair, on her way to meet a prospective employer while she waited for word of her runaway brother.

She was stuck. This weekend, she had been in limbo, she knew it; a paradise-like limbo, one that contrasted the rest of her life so acutely, she would remember it for years to come. Seeing Mrs Cohen's house, her family, Lily knew she would strive for that her entire life, that warmth, that safety, the companionship. But she now had to wait for news of Ryan, as well as wait for her emancipation papers to go through, and with Mr Cohen focused on finding Ryan, she knew that, with her sleeping in the pool-house, safe, her emancipation would take the back-burner while they tried to sort things out with her brother.

Ryan was the reason she had come to Newport Beach in the first place. Had he not stolen that car, had Dawn not gotten loaded and kicked Ryan out of the house, Lily wouldn't have made her escape with him. She wouldn't have ended up here, far from Chino, in a wonderful place by the sea where a young boy craving friendship had bonded with her, and with Ryan. She wouldn't have met Garrett, who was pushing her toward a new job, who had _talked_ with her. The first person to do so in months. But now Ryan was gone.

She could do nothing to find him in a place she knew so little about, without knowing what her brother had planned. So she just sat in Garrett's truck, trying not to worry, or dwell on the hurt that was carving pieces out of her chest with a dull spoon.

"Wanna tell me what's happened?" Garrett asked, one hand on the wheel, his gold-framed _Ray Ban_ sunglasses on as before, looking incredible in a plain, threadbare white V-neck t-shirt that hung lopsidedly off his broad shoulders, his tan glowing a burnished dark-gold. She sighed softly, leaning her elbow against the window.

"Ryan left," she said quietly, glancing out of the window, watching the waving palms.

"Did he tell you where he was going?" Garrett asked quietly; Lily shook her head. "Leave a note?" Another shake of her head, her throat and eyes burning. Garrett sighed heavily, glancing at here. Gesturing to her, he said, "C'mere." He patted to the seat right beside him. As if he wanted her to move closer so he could hug her. She shook her head, clenching her eyes shut.

"I c-can't—if I l-let you hug m-me, I'll b-b-break d-down again," she said, touching her face with her fingertips, realising how tired she was all of a sudden. Garrett nodded, giving her a concerned glance, but turned back to the road; they drove on in silence, listening to Garrett's playlist, Jimi replaced by ELO, Tim McGraw and Johnny Cash singing 'Hurt'. Lily loved the song; it fit her mood, the atmosphere, the _heat_.

As Garrett drove, she took in her surroundings, memorising the route he guided them through. Busy intersections choked with luxury cars gave way to sandy streets a little more ruggedly kept, palms waving in the breeze as dawn-patrol surfers schlepped surfboards and soggy wetsuits to their cars. Cars gave way to pedestrian traffic in the no-car zone on the boardwalk, shops and enormous palm-trees lining a wide promenade filled with benches and colourful flowerbeds. All along it, exclusive boutiques and luxury bakeries were open, restaurants and cafés having put out tables, folding chairs and umbrellas; in the distance, a pier spread out into the crystal blue of the Pacific Ocean, colourful little flags quivering in the breeze along it. Colourful umbrellas were unrolled over shop windows, sprinklers had watered the flowerbeds, pots and plants littering the promenade, and Garrett parked near a small, red-roofed two-storey outdoor mall with open courtyards filled with urns overflowing with flowers and benches. It was a completely pedestrian zone, and people wandered around the second-storey gallery between shops, and Lily saw an apron-clad woman rearranging potted plants and posies amongst decorative urns, obelisks, garden benches and tall flowering roses and potted herbs outside a florist with two very pretty window displays.

Downstairs, two very large bay-windows were filled with displays of posters, record-players and vintage memorabilia, iTunes gift-cards, CDs and fliers detailing gigs at nearby clubs; the wide double-doors to the music store were thrown wide open, and Lily could hear music playing as she followed Garrett closer. As they reached the store, a beanpole with vibrant red hair and glowing red eyelashes stalked after two young girls in flip-flops, braids and vibrant beach-ware, both of whom looked highly terrified.

"—_and stay out!_" the boy shouted after them, and the girls scuttled off, red-faced. Garrett just chuckled softly, gripping the skinny boy by the shoulder and guiding him into the store.

"Another two for the Wall of Shame?" he asked, grinning.

"I'm worried, G," the boy said, eyes wide. "I'm worried about the future of America. I may need you to hold me and tell me everything's gonna be okay."

"Everything's gonna be okay," Garrett said, patting the redhead on the back.

"Sam?" he said, glancing at the raised dais where the cash-registers were located.

"World's going to shit," a skinny dark-haired older boy said from a shoulder-high counter raised on a platform, at which several cash-registers and a computer set up, the counter pasted with concert fliers, posters, CD-release signs, stickers, blank CDs, earphones, iTunes gift-cards and protective iPod cases. "I mean, take this guy for example," he said, gesturing at a customer in front of him, "Look at his selection: Metal, rap—and _Miley Cyrus_."

"It's for my little sister," the customer frowned.

"Sure it is," Sam said disgustedly, sighing as he tossed the CDs carelessly into a translucent red bag, flinging it at the customer, who stalked out of the store, looking surly. The guy caught sight of Garrett, and Lily lingering nervously behind, and shook his head.

"Why does Joe even _stock_ that _Disney _shit?" Garrett asked with a sigh, leaning his elbows on the counter, and Lily gazed around the store. Like the TARDIS, it was bigger on the inside, no floor separating the ground-level with the upper-storey. Waist-high display cabinets filled with vinyl records stretched to a back wall featuring swinging double-doors, beneath a mezzanine balcony filled with little red-painted booths; a sweeping staircase carpeted in purple spread upstairs, leaving a large cosy-corner under the stairs filled with a squashy sectional and an upright piano painted vibrant turquoise; a little polished-wood booth strung up with fairy-lights featured a hand-stencilled mural with the words 'Garrett's Rare Records'; cabinets lined the side walls, filled with CDs; audio sampling machines were set up at intervals around the store, and vibrant, enigmatic artwork had been hoisted up above the cases on the high walls, above hand-painted signs indicating music genres. A few dozen people were checking out the new releases and the extensive vinyl selection. Loud music blared, a blue police-light flashed, and several teenagers with metal nametag lanyards danced around, sweeping floors, straightening up music-magazine stands, dusting counters and replacing light-bulbs.

"Hey, is he around?" Garrett asked.

"In his office," Sam said, jerking his head down the store at the double-doors beneath the mezzanine balcony. "He just got in."

"What kinda mood is he in?" Garrett asked quietly.

"Pretty good, considering," Sam shrugged. He caught sight of Lily and canted his head to the side thoughtfully. "This the girl you called in about earlier?"

"Yeah, uh, Sam, this is Lily," Garrett said, gesturing to his colleague. "Lil, my friend Sam. He's judgemental and venomous without provocation."

"It's better you know now," Sam said, nodding, looking solemn but at the same time, amusing. "What's your opinion on Miley Cyrus?"

"She doesn't even know who Justin Beiber is, Sammy," Garrett said proudly. "I think she's safe."

"Don't call me Sammy, Garrett," Sam remarked. "Sammy is a pudgy fifth-grader."

"You were pudgy?"

"No, I'm saying the name _Sammy_ implies a pudgy fifth-grader."

"Hm. Come on, Lil, I'll show you to Joe's office," Garrett said, latching on to the hem of Lily's t-shirt and striding off, tugging her behind him, toward the swinging double-doors. They featured little porthole windows, and above and two feet either side of the doorframe, someone had painted the wall with chalkboard paint; song lyrics, prices, arrows indicating a bin filled with sale items and sayings were chalked on it.

"Oh, he's put a new one up," Garrett said thoughtfully, pausing in front of the doors and gazing up just above the doorframe. Lily read the quote; '_Arguing with a woman is like being arrested. Everything you say __can__ and __will__ be used against you_'.

"Very wise," Lily smiled.

"Joe has much knowledge," Garrett said thoughtfully, shooting her a grin before bursting through the swinging double-doors, into what looked like the employees' lounge, which featured a few worn-in sofas; an armchair; a licence-plate coffee-table loaded with junk-food; a huge stereo and a television with numerous games consoles; and a counter filled with art-supplies running parallel to the back wall, which was stacked with paintings on canvases, sheets of metal, bits of wood and drywall, even a bicycle frame taken apart and painted like a _Cecily Brown_ painting; a cabinet of boxes had been hand-made and featured little embossed labels with different names, some of the cubbies filled with _stuff_, and on the top of the cabinet was a collection of bongs, liquor bottles, board-games and a cardboard box labelled '_Lost & Stolen_'; there were doors leading off the room, each of them decorated with stickers, posters, photographs, and random stuff; one led to a room featuring a rumpled bed and a fire-door open to a porch, where Lily glimpsed a grill. Garrett jumped up several steps to a windowed door—the white blinds featuring an order in red tape; '_Work_!'—and rapped his knuckles against the glass.

"'Min!" someone called in response, and, still tugging Lily by the hem of her t-shirt, Garrett entered the office. The first thing Lily glimpsed was a huge drum-kit, then a worn-in sofa on which a fluffy white Husky lay curled up, and a desk cluttered with CDs, takeout containers and accounting ledgers.

"Hey Lucy," Garrett said, and the Husky raised its fluffy blue-eyed head to sniff interestedly at Lily, then lick Garrett's outstretched hand affectionately. He scratched her nose, leaning down to kiss her head, before straightening up.

"Garrett, babe, what's happening?" Lily glanced at the man sitting at the desk—behind which was a glossy red jukebox and a low cabinet filled with records—and felt a little stunned. If she had been alive in the Seventies, she wouldn't have looked twice at him at a rock concert, but his face was young, unlined, and a broad grin splashed across his face when he caught Lily's eye. "Hey, you must be Lily. Welcome to the Empire!"

"Hi," Lily said, suddenly feeling bubbly. This man's grin was infectious, and she couldn't help feeling…_comfortable_ around him.

"Are we interrupting?" Garrett asked, peering around the office.

"Nah," Joe said, running his hands through his hair. Rings glinted on several of his fingers, and like Ryan he wore a leather wrist-cuff. "Just distracting me from the accounting ledgers I've been trying to straighten up for the last three hours. What's up?"

"Er—" Lily blurted, inching closer to the desk to glance at the ledger. She had been in charge of the accounting for several of the places she had worked at, chief among them her mother's ex-boyfriend's contractor business. "I—if you want, I c-could take a look at them."

"You know business finance?" Joe asked, raising his eyebrows. Lily took her backpack off, reaching into it for the document portfolio she kept her certifications in. One showed that she had taken and completed with distinction an accounting class at the Chino Hills Community College.

"I d-did the accounting for several of the businesses I've worked for," Lily said quietly. Joe stared at her, then at the certificate she had opened her portfolio to, and she felt herself blushing as Garrett raised his eyebrows. "I…I'm good at m-math. Th-there are r-recomm-mmendations from m-my p-p-previous employers…" Joe skimmed the typed, signed recommendations from her past bosses, each of whom had used her for their book-keeping.

"I need someone to work the afternoon shift three days a week," Joe said, scanning the list of past employers' references. "The pay's fourteen bucks an hour, one p.m. till six, on Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays." Lily committed that to memory and nodded. "Depending on my other staffs' schedules, I might have to call you up and ask to cover their shifts, but if you're on the midnight stretch, you won't be by yourself. Any questions?"

"Would you mind if I t-took on another job alongside this one?" Lily asked, and Joe shrugged.

"Nope," he said, smiling, and Lily couldn't help smiling back. "Fact, if you get another gig with conflicting shifts, I'll let you trade up with someone." Lily smiled shyly. "Rhett, sort her out a time-card and some coffee."

"Am I showing Lil the ropes?" Garrett inquired.

"Not yet," Joe said, giving Lily a grin. "I need my books looked at." On his desk, Joe piled up ledgers, stacks of receipts, a calculator and a handful of pens, a battered _Dell_ laptop, and, standing up, he dumped them in Lily's arms. "Hey, Rhett," Joe said, upturning an ancient red coffee-can; several coins and balled up wads of cash fell onto the desk; he fished out a twenty-dollar bill and a ten, and handed them to Garrett, "Order's in your studio."

"Yeah, I'll go grab that now," Garrett said, tugging on the back of Lily's t-shirt, and Lily stumbled backwards out of the office while Joe plucked a quarter from the desk and sunk it into the jukebox; Aerosmith spewed from hidden speakers, and the office door remained open as Lily was guided to the long counter at the back of the office; a door onto the fire-escape stood open despite the _In Case of Emergencies Only_ sticker, and a gentle sea breeze caressed her bare skin as Garrett pushed a swathe of art materials, sketches, half-completed paintings, vinyl sleeves and magazines aside and tugged a torn red leather-topped stool from beneath the counter, patting it and darted off, calling to an invisible girl named Maia to "pour me a pint!" when Lily heard a noise like an opening soda-bottle issue from the open door tucked by the enormous stereo console.

Stunned, Lily perched on the stool Garrett had dragged out for her, and set out the ledger, calculator, laptop and all of the receipts. She had never been plunged into a new job so quickly, and while she was good at adapting, the record-store wasn't like any place she had ever worked before. Music blared, a siren sometimes wailed (preceding an abrupt stop in the current choice of music), the people who worked there alternately introduced themselves, by perching their chins on her shoulder and peeking at the ledger, then at her (in red-eyelashed Brock's case) or wandered past her in a marijuana haze carrying a pizza-box, pulling a t-shirt on over still-sopping board-shorts, stashing a suspicious-looking baggy in one of the employee boxes marked 'Sasha', jumping when Maia, a twenty-something girl with dark curls bouncing around her chin and a collection of silver piercings, clapped him on the shoulder and pointed Lily out.

"This is Sasha," Maia remarked, and the pretty-looking guy with beach-blonde hair longer than Lily's gazed at her with sleepy blue eyes. She had experienced Trey in a drug haze more than enough times to know there wasn't much Sasha was able to process at that moment, and waved over her shoulder as she turned back to the ledger, which she first had had to decipher then clean up before starting any of the actual math, which would take her moments, at the longest.

"Where's Rhett?" Sasha murmured, peering around the employee lounge.

"In N' Out," Maia replied. Sasha nodded, slung his nametag over his head and dawdled out onto the shop-floor, calling for Garrett.

"He has the attention-span of warm cellophane," Maia sighed affectionately, banging around in the kitchen, producing the lid of an old cake-tin filled with bottles of different condiments, which she placed on the coffee-table after using her foot to kick free a space on it, a bag of Cheetos and a bucket of quarters skittering across the threadbare carpet. Lucy the Husky padded around the room, trying out a spot on the sofa, then the sunspot from the open escape-door, then sat with her head resting on Lily's leg. Lily scratched her nose idly as she worked through the accounting ledger. Maia kept her in _Dots_ candies, and Lily remembered Kirsten's snacks and perked herself up with a few gulps of her blueberry iced-tea; Sam approached her with advice never to accept any of Sasha's 'special' brownies unless she was used to getting high, and demanding to know what kind of music she listened to. Discovering that Lily owned _three_ CDs, Sam stared at her for a full five minutes before Garrett returned bearing recycled-card boxes filled with wrapped burgers, bags of fresh fries, cups of milkshake, soda and iced-tea.

"_FOOD_!" Garrett bellowed out the swinging-doors, and Lily helped him set the boxes down on the coffee-table as numerous people emerged in the lounge; Garrett handed out burgers, bags of fries, the drinks, and when he handed her a "Double-double. Because you're skinny, Lil. If you don't eat all of it, you won't get _any_ of Sasha's special brownies."

"You can't do math without a buzz on," Sasha remarked, going cross-eyed as he tried to drink his chocolate milkshake.

"That is very wise, Sash," Garrett said, giving Sasha a pat on the head.

"Thanks," Lily said quietly, glancing at Garrett, who smiled, and gave Sam an odd look; he was still staring at her as if she had just told the Pope that the Bible was fake.

Lily discovered that at one o'clock every day, Joe would put up the '_Back in 30_' sign, lock the front-doors, and they would all sit down and eat lunch. Whether it was _In N' Out_ or sandwiches made in the kitchen, or a huge vat of pasta or a barbecue outside, there was always food prepared for lunch, and dinnertime included pizza from Sasha's other job, or Thai takeout, Mexican food from _El_ _Pavo_ _Guapo_ across the plaza or fresh fish from _The Crab Shack_ on the pier: the video-games consoles were turned on, the stereo played loudly, beers were passed around after one of Sasha's joints, they all caught up on gossip and made plans for the end of their shifts, traded burned mix-CDs and in Liz and Maia's case, dirty erotic novels. When the burgers and fries had been consumed—the best Lily had and her first ever _In N' Out_—nearly everyone went back to work; Joe sat on the sofa, playing a video-game with Garrett, talking quietly, while Lily went back to the ledgers.

Sitting in the employee lounge, listening to the music being played on the surround-sound stereo system, with Maia, Sasha, Sam, Garrett, Brock and Liz taking breaks to play on the _Wii_, _PlayStation_ and _Xbox_, scarf down junk-food, paint, goof off on Garrett's laptop trying to _Facebook_-rape him and download clown porn, and chug mugs of sugary coffee; Lily witnessed Liz disappearing into the copy-room with a handsome customer, Brock giggling as he ate one of Sasha's brownies while watching _VH1 Classics_, Joe putting on an AC/DC record and drumming along to it in his office, and Garrett, in all his broad-shouldered, tousle-haired glory, mixed a drink ready for Joe, when he got back. He had left for a meeting with his lawyer; according to Liz, his wife had left him for another woman and was trying to sue him for everything he had.

"Don't you need the calculator?" someone asked, and Lily jumped as she glanced up, having been focused entirely on the ledgers. Garrett had his long arms taut against the top of the table, head canted to the side as he watched her interestedly, a streak of paint smudged from his temple through his artfully tousled hair, which Lily hadn't noticed before was slightly longer at the nape of his neck, brushing the collar of his t-shirt, which hung off-centre on his shoulders, revealing one sun-drenched collarbone that she had the strangest urge to nibble.

She then noticed a hickey, conspicuous just under his ear, and glanced instead at his eyes, wetting her lips. "I like d-doing the math in my head."

"You okay?" Garrett asked gently, canting his head to one side as he swept his sapphire eyes over her. Rubbing her eyes, she nodded. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

"N-nothing," Lily said quietly, her temples pulsing, belying her words. "I just…I keep g-getting headaches when I've b-been reading." Garrett made a thoughtful noise, and while she bent over the ledgers, she could hear him clattering around. When he returned, he handed her a pair of reading-glasses.

"Try these," he said. "They're from the _Lost &_ _Stolen_ box. Maybe they'll help."

"Thanks," Lily said quietly, taking the glasses and putting them on; they weren't perfect, but they were better. She could see clearer, wasn't squinting and frowning. When Garrett had set Joe's drink in the office, ready for when Joe returned, he went to work out on the shop-floor, leaving Lily to work steadily.

"How's the math coming?" Garrett asked interestedly.

"I'll be d-done in a little while," Lily said, smoothing the page she was working through. "J-Joe d-doesn't keep very neat records."

"Yeah, I think that's why his accountant quit," Garrett said sympathetically, glancing at the almost-illegible numbers. He grabbed several items from the art table, dubbed his "studio" by Joe, and disappeared out onto the shop-floor.

Within another hour, Lily had finished the accounting ledgers, and a spreadsheet on _Excel_. Joe had returned from his meeting, heavy rock music pounding from the jukebox in his office, and he sat pounding on his drum-kit with his t-shirt off, Lucy the Husky hiding out on the shop-floor at the counter. Knocking on the door had no effect, but Joe nodded at her as she entered the office, indicating the ledgers, and when the song ended, Joe set his drumsticks atop one of the drums and tugged on his t-shirt.

"Hey, Lily, what's up?" he asked, panting softly, and he offered her a _Gatorade_ from his mini-refrigerator.

"No, thank you," Lily said, shaking her head at the _Gatorade_. "Um, I've f-finished going through your books." Joe stared at her, his cheeks pouched full of Gatorade, and Lily offered him the ledger. Taking it from her, Joe sat down, opened it, and spent the next five minutes going through Lily's math. When he glanced up, there was pure wonder and delight sparkling in his eyes.

"How old did you say you were?" he asked.

"Fifteen," Lily blushed subtly, and his eyebrows flickered upwards.

"You really _are_ good at math," Joe laughed easily. Lily couldn't help smiling, feeling pleasantly flushed, happy that someone had noticed her abilities and appreciated them. Joe dug into his desk drawers and withdrew an envelope, handing it to her. "This is for you, for the accounting work." Lily took the envelope curiously, opening it, and quickly counted the cash.

"B-but I've got my t-time-card punched," Lily said, glancing at Joe, who shrugged, grinning.

"My last accountant charged twice that per hour," he said, giving her an unimpressed look. "Keep it. Garrett told me about your situation; and, in fact… I would be willing…to kick Sam out of the cot for you." Lily smiled, flushing shyly.

"You d-don't have t-to do that," she said quietly.

"But he's been here three months!" Joe exclaimed plaintively, gazing at her with puppy-eyes. "I've made this place too comfortable for him." He sighed, resigned. "Well, if you need a sofa to crash on, you're welcome."

"Thank you," Lily said quietly.

"I came here with nothing once, too," Joe said, and for the first time all day, he looked sombre. Biting her lip, Lily went and tucked the envelope filled with one hundred dollars in cash into her backpack, tucked under Garrett's 'studio'. "Hope you're prepared for working in this place," Joe called from his office, and Lily smiled.

"I'm s-s-sure I'll manage," she replied, and Joe chuckled, before punting his door shut, sinking a quarter into his jukebox, lighting a cigar and kicking back on his leather sofa for a lie-down. Though how he could doze off while Brock's choice of mosh-pit metal was scaring the customers, Lily didn't know. Having been told by Joe to take it easy for a few minutes before going out onto the shop-floor, Lily ate some snacks, finished her iced-tea and refilled the bottle with water from the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. When she peeked out into the store, Brock and Sam were having an argument over whether 'metal' was really music _at_ _all_, and standing behind the cash-register, ringing CDs and vinyls through, Garrett's deep laugh was rumbling through the store as Sasha exacerbated the situation by pelting the two boys with colourful peanut _M&M_ candies from the big plastic barrel of them kept on the counter by the computer.

"Hey, Lil!" someone called, and by the deep, rich timbre of the voice, and the fact that only one person in the entire world called her 'Lil', Lily knew instantly who it was. Garrett vaulted over the back of the sectional under the stairs, almost tripping over the low table pressed against the back of the sofa, buried under DVDs and some of Liz's books, and he whipped something over her head. "Check it out; I already made you a nametag."

A white plastic rectangle with a CD logo and _Empire Records_ printed on it in black, Garrett had used a label-maker to print out Lily's name and stuck it above the words 'I work here'.

"I never doubted you for a second," Garrett said, and he flashed her a grin that made her stomach do back-flips. His big grin was brilliant and white, his eyes so sparkly a sapphire. "Let me grab some sodas, I'll show you the ropes." Disappearing beyond the swinging-doors, Garrett returned with two mason-jars of soda. Dodging _M&M _fire, and Brock staggering around in a headlock from Sam, Lily caught the _M&M_ Sasha launched at her with a playful grin, and she popped it in her mouth as she climbed up behind the cash-registers, which were left unmanned as Sasha drifted off to the lounge, Garrett motioning that he was going to smoke up.

The record-store had steady business throughout the afternoon, but it was _fun_ working there; Lily had rarely worked with people nearer her own age, and despite Joe being in his mid-thirties and evidently the boss, he spent most of his time in his office on his drum-kit; and on the shop-floor, as long as they manned the registers in shifts and prevented shoplifting by any means necessary, Joe let his employees do as they wished, whether it was standing at the counter reading supernatural erotic novels, moshing by the stereo system, or arguing about music genres in the cosy-corner under the stairs, painting in the employee lounge and berating customers for their choice in records.

Having used a similar model before, Lily quickly got a handle on the cash-register, and the computer system; instead of bringing her soda or milky coffee chock full of sugar when it was handed round to the others in the battered lid from a cake-tin, Lily's preference of a little glass of milk was quickly discovered, and, undeterred by Sam's smirk, expecting her to be a straight-edge and forgo the offering, snacked on half of one of Sasha's brownies, sharing it with Garrett; the brief period of munchies making her scoop out handfuls of _M&M_ candies. Luckily she was so used to Trey hot-boxing their garage that although she felt herself loosening up and laughing at the boys' antics, Sasha's pot-brownies didn't seem to affect her too badly. While Liz sat cross-legged on the counter, reading her sex novel, absent-mindedly eating the candy, Garrett played solitaire on the counter, despite the customers, before bringing out a box of pretzels and Lily's packet of _Goldfish_ and dealt out a hand of poker, using pretzels, _Goldfish_ and _M&Ms_ as currency, Sam joining them when the customers he had been ridiculing for their love of country music had left.

She had to ask Garrett for help when dealing with gift-certificates, but other than that Lily quickly got the hang of working at Empire Records. The only thing she didn't like about her job was that she had to answer the phone sometimes. '_Empire Records, open till midnight_' was easy enough to say, if only she didn't have her stammer, and her aversion to the phone made it worse. The others noticed this and if the phone rang, they answered it rather than force her to, for which she was grateful.

Working took Lily's mind off things. She wasn't exactly living in the moment, the way she had last night on the beach with Garrett, but she wasn't dwelling. On Ryan. That wasn't to say she didn't think about him; she just didn't allow herself worry, or let the burning feeling in her chest overwhelm her and force her into the bathroom to sink her face in cold water before she burst into tears. Working meant she wasn't worrying, wasn't letting herself acknowledge how…how devastated she was that Ryan had left. Abandoned her. Without even saying goodbye.

If he hadn't wanted to go into foster-care, he should have said something; he knew Lily was pursuing emancipation. If he took on a full-time job and got his GED, he could take classes after work the way Lily was planning to. They could find a small place to live, split the cost of living between them, save money and…support each other. Be a family. They could invite Seth over to hang out, when Lily started doing experimental cooking the way she wanted to learn how to cook different things. They could watch _Catwoman_ together and have Balboa Bars on the beach… Maybe Ryan could have shadowed one of Mrs Cohen's architect employees, to motivate him to getting that GED, taking those evening classes…

Maybe Seth could have kept Ryan out of trouble. They could have given Seth someone to hang out with; he could have taught Lily how to sail. Maybe he still could; Lily didn't have any intention of leaving Newport Beach. It was as different to her neighbourhood as she could get, but that wasn't why she liked it. She knew there was no way she would be going to canapé-and-tie parties at the country club wearing a multi-thousand dollar dress; but there was…there was Seth. And Mr and Mrs Cohen. And Garrett.

The boy who had befriended her: the lady who had taken the time to get to bond with her: the man who had taken her in when nobody had bothered: and the boy she really, _really_ liked to look at, who'd _talked _with her, gotten her to open up about things and talk and…hadn't ridiculed her for her stammer.

He strode over to man the second cash-register, casting her a smile before handing her another glass of milk and logging in to his computer. After they had helped three customers, Garrett retrieved a new _Dell_ laptop from the lounge, setting up on the counter where Liz usually sat reading _Pleasures of a Dark Prince_, reading the good parts aloud.

"So, you still don't want to talk about it?" Garrett asked, glancing over his shoulder, as she peeked at what he was doing. He had some software on his computer on which he was going through photographs; from the look of them, they were the ones he had taken at the fashion-show. She glanced up, and Garrett leaned his hip against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. She sighed softly, straightening up fliers on the counter and rubbing the side of her hand against her jaw.

"N-no…n-no matter what was going on…my m-mom…Trey…Dawn's b-boyfriends… It was always _us_," she said, glancing at Garrett, trying hard to put eloquently what she had been churning over all afternoon. "Me and…Ryan. The t-two of us against the world… Now he's g-gone." As a customer approached, she gave them a tremulous smile and took the two records they wanted to purchase. Ryan was gone. They had always gone through the worst of it together.

Now, when it could have started to get good, Ryan had run.

He had just…packed up and left. Like Dawn.

"I remember when I was…eight, when we still l-lived in Fresno," Lily said quietly, sadness settling on her features and her shoulders. "Ryan d-decided he wanted to run away." Trey had been beating them up, twelve years old and angry about their father's arrest, lumped with babysitting duty while their mother worked extra hours to save up cash so they could move for a better life, and a few extra bottles of whisky and cigarettes… "I wouldn't let him go b-by himself, b-because I was worried he'd…he'd never come back."

"What happened?" Garrett asked curiously. Lily sighed softly, ringing through another transaction.

"Our babysitter d-didn't let us cross the street b-by ourselves," she said hoarsely, clearing her throat. "So we spent hours j-just walking around the block… In the end, we w-went back home," she said, remembering the day perfectly. Her dad's old truck had still been parked in the driveway, the hood open. He and his buddies had been working on it just before their botched robbery attempt. The night before, her dad had put them all in the truck and taken them to the drive-in movie theatre, for a night-showing of _The Shootist_. She still couldn't see that movie without thinking of how she had fallen asleep, bundled up in the truck on her dad's lap while Trey and Ryan dozed in the backseat and her mom and dad exchanged popcorn and kisses.

"Was your mom or Trey worried?" Garrett asked solemnly.

"They hadn't even n-noticed we'd been gone," Lily whispered softly, gazing at the floor but not seeing it. She gave the next customer a bleary smile before ringing through their purchases. She had worked in several retail stores, and it became second-nature to offer credit/debit machines and check cash handed over. "He just _left_. Just like she d-did. He d-didn't even… He _knew_ I was looking into emancipation. But he left anyway."

"D'you think he might've gone looking for your mom?" Garrett asked. Lily shook her head.

"He's mad at her; he won't want t-to find her," she said softly. Garrett rang through a transaction, showing Lily how to do gift-certificates, and glanced at her thoughtfully.

Feeling sorry for herself was a waste of energy, when it could be put into changing her situation, but at that moment, she allowed herself to wallow. Ryan had abandoned her. She never had thought he was a Dean Moriarty, abandoning Sal when he got dysentery. Or in their case, abandoning his fifteen-year-old kid sister because she might slow him down, or because they would be more conspicuous to the authorities, and easier to identify.

"So, are you still gonna stay here? In Newport, I mean, even without Ryan?" he asked; Lily glanced at him, taking in the slant of his strangely elegant nose, the deep burnish of his tan glowing against the white of his t-shirt, how his blue eyes blazed.

"I'd like t-to," she said softly. "Without Ryan, I… I'll n-need to t-take another j-job t-to cover costs."

"Maybe I could share a place with you," Garrett remarked, and his tone was strange; she glanced at him, frowning bemusedly.

"Why would you n-need t-to?" she asked softly. Garrett shrugged, straightening up his t-shirt and adjusting the chain of his nametag.

"Way things are going for my family, it might come to it," he sighed, and Lily frowned, wondering what he meant. Garrett glanced up, saw her expression, and gave her a sad smile. "My parents are always fighting, and, uh… I don't know, my dad's having trouble at work… I've kind of been thinking lately, if I… If I move out on my own…it's just one less thing for my dad to worry about, taking care of me."

"Would your p-p-parents let you do that?" Lily asked curiously. She had seen Garrett's parents, briefly, at the fashion-show; his mother had worn an incredible dark-red leather dress. His dad had been kind-eyed and polite to her when they had briefly crossed paths, introduced by Mrs Cohen.

Garrett gave a hollow sort of half-laugh, sighing as he shook his head, looking almost glum. "Probably not… But it'd be nice to get away from Marissa and my mom."

"D-do you spend much t-time with Oscar?" Lily asked. Garrett's grin flashed dazzling and handsome.

"As much as I can," he said, sighing, looking almost sad briefly. "Now. He's kind of…the brother I _should've_ had. But, I've been in Mexico for six weeks, he's just gotten back from England."

"Is he English?" Lily asked, remembering Oscar's slight accent.

"His mother was," Garrett said, something flashing across his features briefly. She noticed he'd said 'was'. "She was nobility, or something; he was in England for the Jubilee, watched some of the Olympics. His cousins went to the Royal Wedding."

"She was so _beautiful_," Lily sighed, letting her head loll back as she closed her eyes, remembering Kate's gown, the lily-of-the-valley, the way she had reacted to the crowd outside Buckingham Palace, their kiss…

"Everyone was going on about Pippa," Garrett said, shaking his head, "but I thought Kate looked stunning."

"You watched it?" Lily asked, knowing it was over a year since the Royal Wedding.

"I have two sisters," Garrett said drily, glancing at her, and Lily smiled. "It's too bad Marissa won't take fashion advice from Kate."

"She's incredibly elegant," Lily said, nodding.

"Very Grace Kelly, Jackie O fabulous," Garrett smirked, teasing, and Lily smiled.

"You c-can't really h-have English sophistication on a C-c-California beach," she pointed out.

"A longer hemline, maybe?" Garrett said, looking anguished. "Less bronzer, more…_food_." He rolled his eyes; apparently, Garrett didn't like ultra-skinny girls. Lily had an excuse; she worked herself to exhaustion. His sister Marissa was disgustingly thin, _ill_. Lily didn't wonder that she had passed out from drinking so much.

"You're very c-c-critical of your sister," Lily observed.

"Someone should be," Garrett sighed. "My mom doesn't care how ill Marissa might be, just that she can fit into anything size-zero she picks up from Saks. Where Marissa's concerned, my parents are clueless."

"How so?" Lily asked.

"Well, as you said, Marissa drinks till she blacks out; she doesn't eat; she hot-boxes her boyfriend's car; she shoplifts and…and pretends to be misunderstood and hard-done-by and listens to _my_ punk," Garrett sighed, shaking his head, glancing at her. "Maybe she could take a walk in your shoes for a week, shock her out of all her bullshit."

"If she c-can't handle life in a Newport mansion, my l-life m-might k-kill her," Lily said quietly, and Garrett gave a soft chuckle.

"I'd guess so," he acquiesced. Glancing at her, he said, "But your life doesn't have to be like that anymore."

"And I d-don't want it t-to be," Lily said, glancing at Garrett. "I'm making changes. Just like you did." Garrett gave her a quirky smile, before helping a customer. Clearing her throat softly when she had helped someone, she gestured to the laptop. "So, what are you d-doing with this?"

"Oh, I, uh, I pick out the best photos I take at each event, and I format them, clean them up and then I burn them onto custom CDs," Garrett said, glancing at the laptop. "I've got a few to catch up on."

"Country-club events?" Lily asked.

"Some," Garrett shrugged, smiling as he took a CD from a customer. "But, I, uh, I photograph weddings, and Christenings, birthday-parties, engagement announcements, that sort of thing. Kind of something I started doing around Christmastime for a little bit of cash. It turns out I actually really enjoy it."

"I looked through the p-p-pic—_photos_ you gave me," Lily said, glancing at Garrett. "They were _stunning_." Garrett grinned.

"I'm glad you liked them," he smiled warmly. "You're incredible to photograph." Blushing, Lily smiled at a customer, charging up twelve CDs and an iTunes gift-card while Garrett tsked under his breath about vinyls being the way forward.

"I embarrassed you," Garrett said quietly, bumping his hip gently against hers as he shuffled the deck of cards, nobody approaching the counter. Lily shook her head, but blushed again, and Garrett gave her an incredibly sweet smile. "It's true; you're the most photogenic person I've ever met." He pulled his laptop over, and while they played poker, waiting for customers to approach them, he went through several photographs he'd been cleaning up and cropping. "Oh, and—here. I thought you might like to see these," he said, tapping away at his keypad before opening a folder and clicking on several thumbnails. Two photographs morphed onto the screen, and Lily set her mason-jar of milk down on the counter before leaning closer.

"Those are…"

"Yeah. They're from last night," Garrett smiled warmly, eyes on the screen. "The two I took on my phone." Lily gazed at the photographs. One featured just her, almost at profile, her eyes on the viewer, gilded by the dying sun; the sunset was inimitable. The second photograph was of her, smiling gently, her head cradled against Garrett's shoulder as he sat with her back against his front, an incredible grin illuminating his face. Behind them, the sunset was even more staggering.

"They d-don't look real," she said softly, glancing at Garrett. "Th-they look like a b-b-backdrop has been p-p-painted." She gazed at the photograph with the two of them. The pose was so casual, so…_intimate_. They looked…they looked as close in the photograph as Lily had felt they were last night. "D-did you finish that other roll of f-f-film?"

"Yeah, I did, actually," Garrett nodded. "I need to scan the negatives, but I processed the film last night. The pictures look great."

"Where d-did you process the film?" Lily asked.

"Oh, I, uh… I have a dark-room in my workshop," Garrett said, blushing a little bit, as if he didn't really want her to know that his family had enough room on their property to build a home dark-room to support his hobby. Lily had to pay $5 to go and use the dark-room near where she lived. "Why d'you ask?"

"I have some f-film th-that needs d-developing," Lily said, and Garrett checked his cards, folding.

"Well, I've got the chemicals and equipment to process films," Garrett said. "If you want, you can come over and borrow my dark-room. I can show you, if you don't know how to do it."

"Oh, no, I—I d-do," Lily said, half-smiling. "It's…what I enjoy."

"It's satisfying, huh," Garrett said, and Lily smiled, nodding. "Well, if you have a free afternoon, come knock on my door, I'll show you where I keep all my stuff."

"Thank you," Lily said, smiling softly, feeling comfortable enough with Garrett that she thought she might actually take up his offer.

"Hey, Lily," Joe called, smiling, from the swinging-doors, and Lily glanced over inquisitively. "Almost six. Your, uh—someone called Kirsten Cohen called for you, said she'd be outside at six to pick you up."

"Oh… Okay," Lily nodded, checking the clock above the front-doors, and she logged out of her setting on the cash-register, glancing at Garrett. "I'll…"

"I'll see you soon," Garrett said, with a warm smile, and Lily nodded. Making her way into the lounge, she punched her time-card, collected her things, scratched Lucy's nose in goodbye, and checked in on Joe, who was smoking a cigar and reading _Rolling Stone_ magazine with his ankles crossed on his desk; he gave her a smile in goodbye, and she made her way outside.

As she made her way through the little outdoor-mall, Lily noticed the linen-apron clad employees of the florist boutique carrying in the potted plants and garden furniture arranged by the windows. Hoping she wouldn't keep Mrs Cohen waiting, she made her way over to the shop.

Hurrying across the fragrant flower-filled courtyard to the shop, she glanced at the shop: the cream trim to the windows and above the door were painted with the shop's name—_Posie_—and the telephone-number, website and online ordering information. Peeking in through the front-door, she saw that all the obelisks, potted plants and garden-furniture had been stored in the front room, among pretty, natural wood tables, clean, modern white tables, and a large potting-bench bearing a display of tall cream enamel buckets filled with the flowers she could scent even standing outside. One of the women who worked there exited the shop, caught her eye and smiled, before turning to a decorative ladder on which were arranged pretty little potted plants and bulb-flowers, the prices chalked on a little notice.

"Do you need any help?" Lily asked, watching her attempt to lift the thing by herself.

"Thank you," the woman smiled. "That'd be great." Taking one side of the potting tower, Lily helped the woman navigate it into the shop, tucking it out of the way so that an easy path wound from the front-door between two tables arranged with pretty trinkets, outdoor lanterns, tall orchids, gourmet soaps and candles, past a counter topped with a cash-register and chocolate-brown tissue-paper used to wrap gifts and floral arrangements.

"I'm sorry—did you need anything?" the woman asked. "I'm about to lock up, I've already turned off the cash-register."

"Actually, I—I was…wondering if I c-could p-possibly have an application," Lily said, making eye-contact with the woman, something she always found helped a lot during job-interviews. "I've h-had experience in several other florists', and I'm looking for work. Even if I c-can just hand in my résumé for c-consideration in future if a position b-becomes available."

"Oh!" the woman exclaimed, beaming. "Well, actually, Kathryn, the owner, is looking for someone. Busiest season, you know, we've got a lot of weddings, Christenings, a lot of garden-parties, and a few wedding-expos in LA to prepare for, for the fall season. Let me just…" She navigated around the obelisks, tables and buckets filled with made-up posies for customers to grab if they didn't want to pause and build a customised bouquet with the cut flowers. While the woman searched for an application-form, Lily took the time to look around the shop from where she stood, taking note of the kinds of things that were sold there. There was nothing artificially-coloured or tacky: everything seemed luxury. Handmade soaps, scented candles, soft shawls, wide-brimmed summer-hats, prettily-patterned beach-mats; cream and sage-green garden furniture. Highest-quality flowers would turn Lily into a flower-snob in no time, they were so exquisite. There were collections of succulents, fragrant herbs, very pretty potted plants and dainty, flowering cacti; delicate hand-blown vases, cookbooks, pretty diaries and stationery sets of handmade paper, handmade cards and vintage-style postcards, glossy shaker-style boxes, hand-sewn jewellery rolls and pretty little compact mirrors; sweet little clocks, wall-decals and elegant cake-stands. The scent of the flowers in the buckets was heady, beautiful, and there was not a carnation in sight.

"Can I just ask… You seem very young," the woman said, glancing at her. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen," Lily said, glancing at her; she knew her age worked against her, but she soon overcame people's apprehensions with her work-ethic and polite manners. "I h-have an album I k-keep photos of all the b-b-bouquets I've p-put together, so I c-can show you my work."

"Oh, that would be great," the woman smiled. "So, you learned through experience?" Lily nodded.

"I've worked at this last florist for a year," Lily said. "I survived t-two Mother's Days."

"Always the worst," the woman beamed. "Everybody always thinks it's Valentine's Day."

"Christmas wreaths," Lily said, and the woman chuckled, nodding, as she handed Lily the application.

"Sorry, what's your name? So I can put your face to it when I give Kathryn your application?" the woman asked.

"Lillian," Lily said, then blushed a little. "Lily. Lily Atwood." The woman smiled warmly.

"Lily, it's lovely to meet you. If you can just give a few good references, I'll give Kathryn your application," the woman smiled. "And remember to bring that album of your previous projects when you meet with Kathryn." Lily nodded.

"I will. Thank you very much for your help," she said softly, and the woman beamed. "Would you like the d-door shut?"

"Yes, please! I can start cashing up," the woman smiled. Keeping hold of her application, lily made her way to the place Garrett had parked, the nearest parking zone to the beginning of the pedestrians-only sign-postage. She spotted Mrs Cohen's _Range Rover_ even amidst the collection of large, expensive cars. Mrs Cohen smiled out of her open window as Lily approached, and, conscious of Mrs Cohen having come out of her way to collect her, Lily hastily approached the car, quietly shutting the door as she climbed into the passenger-seat.

"Hey," Mrs Cohen smiled. "So I guess this means that you got the job?" Her cheeks warm, a little ashamed of her meltdown earlier, hoping she hadn't left Mrs Cohen worrying about her all day, distracted from her work, Lily nodded. She always kept her emotions private, never letting her exhaustion or desperation get in the way of providing for her family, as ungrateful as they were, and that she had burst into tears in front of Mrs Cohen embarrassed her.

"It's only a p-part-t-time job, b-but I d-did Joe's accounts," Lily said, a touch of pride in her voice.

"Oh, _really_?" Mrs Cohen smiled. "I'll bet he didn't expect that."

"Nobody ever d-does," Lily sighed softly.

"Where did you learn book-keeping and accounting?" Mrs Cohen asked.

"Chino Hills C-c-Community College," Lily said, glancing at Mrs Cohen. "M-m-my mother's b-boyfriend—th-the one who hired Ryan t-to d-do construction…he saw I was g-good with n-numbers and p-p-paid the t-tuition costs." It was the first and only time anyone had ever paid for her to do something like that. He was the first person who had ever seen anything in Lily worth encouraging her about. Of all her mother's boyfriends, he was the one who shone out in Lily's memory. He had been _kind_, far too good for Dawn, and knew he was in the wrong surroundings before he had moved to Texas.

"What's this?" Mrs Cohen asked, indicating the piece of paper Lily had in her lap.

"It's an app—an app…an app-p-pplication—for P-p-p-_Posie_!" Lily struggled, cheeks flushing hotly.

"I love that little boutique," Mrs Cohen smiled. "I get all my hostess-gifts from there. And flowers; we couldn't get them for the fashion-show, they had two weddings this weekend, but they're the best florist's in the area, better than some of the companies we'd used from LA."

"The flowers were b-b-beautiful," Lily agreed.

"I didn't know Kathryn was looking for anyone," Mrs Cohen said thoughtfully. She gave Lily a small smile when Lily glanced at her curiously. "Kathryn's a friend." Lily nodded.

"I j-just went in t-to ask for an app…an app-_lication_ j-just so th-they have m-my n-name if they n-need somebody," Lily said, and Mrs Cohen nodded. "B-but the woman I t-talked t-to said the owner is l-looking f-for someone t-to help t-to help with weddings."

"Have you done weddings before?" Mrs Cohen asked, and Lily nodded.

"I enjoy them the m-most," she said softly. "If you get everything right, the b-bride's gratitude m-makes the effort worthwhile."

"I know what you mean," Mrs Cohen sighed. "You've just reminded me, I've got about two weddings a week for the next two months, on top of bridal showers, sip-n'-sees, engagement-dinners, Christenings and graduation parties."

"What's a sip-n'-see?" Lily asked curiously.

"It's…a baby-shower held _after_ the baby's born," Mrs Cohen said, glancing at Lily. "So the new mommy gets to be skinny in the photos." Lily nodded.

"S-s-so P-p-_Posie_ d-does p-pretty steady b-business?" Lily asked.

"Oh, in this town, nobody ever needs a reason to throw a party, and they all _love_ fresh flowers," Mrs Cohen smiled. "One quirk of living here is that all your friends get married multiple times, acquire numerous stepchildren, all of whom end up moving back to live here after college and get married, and start having babies. Or Botox parties." Lily grimaced, shivering slightly; she didn't like needles so much.

"It's n-nice t-to celebrate those kinds of th-things," Lily said softly. She always liked celebrating things like weddings and Christenings. She loved children; and she loved weddings.

"It is," Mrs Cohen smiled, sighing softly.

"Except the B-b-Botox," Lily said, blushing softly, and Mrs Cohen chuckled.

"I can't say I find the idea of having poison injected into my face during a cocktail-party appealing," she said, chuckling softly. Lily couldn't help wondering whether Mrs Cohen, who was flawless at nearly forty, had ever had Botox. She seemed to sense the direction Lily's thoughts had travelled. "The thing with Botox, it wears off. If you start getting the injections, you can't really stop. One of my colleagues swears she's only gotten where she has in the Newport Group because of her Botox."

"B-because it m-makes her appear m-more youthful?" Lily asked, and Mrs Cohen shrugged. "It's n-not her hard work and intelligence that g-got her p-p-promotions?" Mrs Cohen laughed softly.

"Well, with all these parties you've reminded me of, I'll have to go shopping again," Mrs Cohen said, casting Lily a smile. "Seth would say I don't really need an excuse to splurge."

"You'll have t-to p-pick out some new hats for the weddings," Lily said, and Mrs Cohen chuckled.

"I've never actually worn a hat to a wedding," she said thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should have looked at them when I was at Fashion Island earlier… So, I was thinking about ordering Thai for dinner. It's one of Seth's favourites, and he's pretty upset with me at the moment."

"He shouldn't be," Lily mumbled.

"What's that?" Lily glanced up, biting her lip.

"He shouldn't be upset with you," she said quietly. She sighed softly, glancing at Mrs Cohen. "I'll…t-talk to him… You h-have a really n-nice family… I'd d-do anything t-to p-p-protect it t-too." Her stammer, which had become increasingly unnoticeable under the influence of Garrett, Sasha's brownies and _laughing_ so much working at Empire amid truly eccentric personalities, was returning; Mrs Cohen made her nervous. She wasn't unkind, but she was standoffish, and nervous about Lily and Ryan being in her home, near her family, amongst her wealthy friends. Lily couldn't blame her, but besides getting ready together for the fashion-show, Mrs Cohen hadn't let down her guard.

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**A.N.**: How did you like the chapter? _Joe-Lynn_, I'm sticking by your advice to have Ryan work for Lily's forgiveness; I've got things planned for the interim while Ryan's in juvenile-hall. And Kaitlin having a crush on Ryan; such a cute idea! I've actually thought of a way I can reference it later on! Oh, and the purse at the raffle idea? I've changed my mind; Lily wouldn't _use_ the purse; it wouldn't be a practical gift/prize for her to choose. But don't worry, she still gets a cool prize.


	12. A Call from the Fire Department

**A.N.**: Please review!

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**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_11_

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Noticing that she carried several handfuls of shopping-bags into the house, Lily followed Mrs Cohen. Glancing at Mrs Cohen, she if possible more uneasy than before, and when they returned to the empty house, she retrieved the _Thaiphoon_ takeout menu and let Lily look through it. Lily had never eaten Thai food before—her family were pizza-eaters and diner patrons—but she liked the sound of the green curry, and the chicken Pad Thai.

"Have there b-been any d-developments with th-the contractors?" Lily asked, and Mrs Cohen sighed.

"Well, the new contractors are starting tomorrow," she said. "With time-and-a-half and an extra ten guys, hopefully they'll get the job finished on schedule, after the last crew left us two months behind."

"And the old ones?" Lily asked.

"Not a word," Mrs Cohen sighed. "So, listen, I have got something for you when I was at Fashion Island." Seeing Lily's suddenly anxious expression, her smile returned warmly. "Don't worry, it's not another expensive dress." Lily eyed her warily as Mrs Cohen handed her something rectangular, made of vibrant orangey-yellow leather. A journal, similar to the one Lily used for her expenses and income ledger, where she kept a log of Dawn's activities and her own work schedule.

"Th-thank you," Lily said softly. She didn't know why—it always happened with sunflowers and yellow-orangey roses, too—but the yellow of the leather gave her an unadulterated hit of something like happiness. Sunflowers, her four-year-old neighbour's yellow tricycle, chevron table-runners, freesias, feather celosia, even the sparkling-peach _Izze_ drink Seth had given her the other afternoon, anything yellow gave her a hit of adrenaline that made her somehow less depressed. "Yellow's m-my favourite c-c-colour." Mrs Cohen gave her a smile, before retrieving an unsealed envelope from her flawless _Hermés_ 'Kelly' bag, handing it to Lily, who put the journal in her lap and tenderly removed the crisply-folded paper from the envelope. She frowned at it: it was a list of journal prompts and inspirational quotes, the foremost being the one Mrs Cohen had told her earlier; _You are Beautiful, You are Intelligent, You are Loved_. Lily glanced up at Mrs Cohen, who was twisting her diamond engagement-ring around her finger nervously.

"My, uh, my mom died when Seth was five," Mrs Cohen said softly. "My younger sister Haley was only a couple years younger than you are now, and, well…she wouldn't talk to me about it, or my dad—and she refused to see a psychiatrist, but I wanted to make sure she had someone to talk to, and I gave her a journal, gave her prompts to write about every day. I doubt she ever did, she was never much of an academic-type, but I just thought… You can talk to me, if you want to, but…I just…wanted you to have somewhere to put all your thoughts, to get them off your mind…" Mrs Cohen trailed off, and Lily glanced up at her.

"Thank you," she said softly, hoping those two words conveyed the depths of her gratitude. Lily had never met anyone like Mrs Cohen—or her husband—and she knew it wasn't easy for the woman to have strangers in her home, causing tension with her son. Lily knew Mrs Cohen could just as easily have refused them entry to her home as give them shelter in the little-house.

Mrs Cohen had to do a little bit of work while they waited for the takeout to arrive, but by the time Mr Cohen got home from work and Seth trailed into the house, the kitchen was filled with takeout containers, the air scented with the spices in rich curry sauces. Mr Cohen clapped his son on the back and kissed his wife; he put his arm around Lily's shoulders, hugging her close and kissing her head, in the most bizarrely casual display of affection between strangers Lily had ever experienced.

Dinner was quiet, but not _awkward_; the elephant in the room was Ryan, conspicuous in his absence, and Mr Cohen kept glancing at the seat Ryan had occupied last night at dinner, the one beside him; Lily had unconsciously taken the seat she had sat in last night, at the head of the table beside Seth, and it was remarkable to her that she didn't feel uncomfortable sitting there. What was uncomfortable was Ryan's absence; it felt unnatural, as if something natural and eternal had been completely disrupted.

She felt as if Ryan _should_ have been there, sitting and eating dinner with them. It felt so natural to be sitting with the Cohen family, sharing an aromatic Thai feast, listening to Seth tease his mother about her prowess in ordering takeout, Mr Cohen's deep rumbling laugh as he undid his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up, his tie long-since removed, enjoying a frosty beer as he teased Seth and his wife good-naturedly.

Ryan wasn't mentioned, but Lily couldn't stop thinking about him. Where was he? Was he safe? Hurt? Was he scared? Did he regret…leaving her behind?

Helping Seth clear the plates and cutlery into the dishwasher and put the leftover takeout in the fridge, Lily felt they were goose-stepping around the issue everyone was thinking about; Ryan. Mrs Cohen took her glass of wine into the living-room, where Lily soon heard her talking on the phone, and Mr Cohen retrieved his briefcase and disappeared into his home-office. When Seth disappeared up to his room, giving Lily a wan smile, she sat in the den with the remote-controller Mr Cohen had handed her, and she sat fiddling with the journal Mrs Cohen had given her while she flicked through the channels for _BBC America_, hoping that _Doctor Who_ was on television, or at least an interesting documentary.

When Mr Cohen and Seth disappeared into the night, it left her alone in the den with Mrs Cohen out on the patio, in the glittering candlelight, talking on the phone very quietly.

Wanting to ride her bike to the pier tomorrow to hand in her application, Lily turned off the television and mentioned to Mrs Cohen, working at her desk in the formal sitting-room, that she was going to bed. She was tired, both from her breakdown earlier in the day and working a full shift at Empire Records. The Thai dinner had been excellent, but it didn't change the fact that everybody sitting at that table had known someone was sorely missed.

"Actually, uh… I've been thinking, maybe you'd like to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms," Mrs Cohen said, standing up from her patio-table, looking a little anxious.

"Th-the guest b-bedroom?" Lily said uncertainly.

"You and Ryan must have been tripping over each other in the pool-house," Mrs Cohen said, glancing quickly at her when she realised she'd mentioned Ryan. "You two are a little too old to share the same bed." Wondering whether this had anything to do with her meltdown earlier today, Lily collected her things from the pool-house before following Mrs Cohen up the stairs with the glass banister and Richard Phillips painting. Lily hadn't yet been upstairs; the corridors were half panelled, half bedecked in incredible artwork, the walls painted a warm duck-egg blue, with wonderfully chic, modern side-tables decorated with neat piles of art books, art-glass, vases and candelabra, photographs and trinkets.

The bedroom Mrs Cohen led her to was beautiful but rather impersonal; it was a warm rusty rose in colour at first glance; a polished Soren chair brought a leather-topped Louis-style table that served as a desk/dressing-table into the twenty-first century, a small leather settee created texture with natural linen-upholstered seat-cushions, and the clean, modern wall-sconces and the eclectic ceiling pendant modernised the wallpaper, picking up the rich lustre of the damask-patterned wallpaper, rusty-rose on a background of champagne-gold, pretty from any distance or angle. The wallpaper wasn't everywhere; Lily liked how it was used as a feature in specific areas, always on the lower-half of the wall, with the edges trimmed with a warm walnut ledge perfect for tiny trinkets and unframed photographs. The bare windows overlooked the Cohens' back-garden, the glowing infinity-pool, the little house. Beyond, inky darkness played with the twinkling stars, the ocean and the endless sky.

Mrs Cohen liked texture, sophistication and artwork over anything else, and texture on the bed came from the contrast of iridescent champagne-gold cotton and supremely soft off-white linen draped over it. A punch of deep cherry-red came from the mattress, and the bottommost sheet when Lily set her TARDIS lunchbox on the bed.

"And the best part of this room," Mrs Cohen smiled, striding over to the windows, and Lily suddenly noticed the slender, almost unnoticeable vertical silver bar handles in the centre of the wall, which Mrs Cohen pulled on, opening two slender panels of the windows into the room. A sweep of sea-breeze and late-evening warmth billowed into the room, hugging Lily. Mrs Cohen stepped out of the doors, making Lily's heart stop; but she realised that a set of steps was hidden below the doors, and, following Mrs Cohen, she realised the steps went down into a little private balcony; the walls were of glass, so the view of the garden and beyond wasn't impeded from the bedroom.

"An opt-optic-cal illusion," Lily said softly, peering out of the doors before following Mrs Cohen down into the little balcony, where a side-table beside an _Eames_-style wooden chair featured a hurricane-lamp with a fat candle and several little potted succulents. Candles were littered around the balcony floor, clustered in the corners, with potted herbs and a few more succulents.

"Yeah," Mrs Cohen smiled, leaning her forearms on the glass banister. "Couldn't block this view."

"It's clever. D-does your model-home h-have a b-balcony like this?" Lily asked, examining the way the balcony had been built utilising the downstairs' high ceilings, meaning the balcony could be built lower than the floor of the bedroom, so nothing impeded the view.

"Uh, no," Mrs Cohen smiled. "It has a crescent mezzanine overlooking the coast, which is quite pretty; the view should be spectacular when it's finally finished." Lily couldn't help wonder what the view would be like in the daylight, gazing out over the illuminated swimming-pool. "Well, I'd better get back to work; I've got a lot to catch up on with these contractors who abandoned the model-house." Lily nodded, catching Mrs Cohen's wide-eyed double-take as she registered that she'd mentioned the word 'abandoned'. Lily was _abandoned_.

But she didn't have nothing; she had nearly ten-thousand dollars to her name, and the Cohens were being very kind to her. She had a part-time job, her bicycle to get to work, and she had her plans, and the conviction to achieve them.

Whether Mrs Cohen had moved Lily into the house to keep an eye on her or because she was worried Lily would pull an Atwood and run away, she knew it was very kind of Mrs Cohen to bring Lily into the house. She was no longer in the pool-house, removed from the main building and from the family. Lily had thought Mrs Cohen wasn't letting her guard down; but she had invited Lily into the house rather than just allowing Mr Cohen to house them in the pool-house over the weekend. She had bought Lily a journal to put all her thoughts in that she couldn't express, had hired a private investigator to find her mother—whether Lily wanted to find Dawn or not, the principal of the matter was that Mrs Cohen _had_ hired someone to find her.

When Mrs Cohen had retreated downstairs, Lily sat in the new room. She gazed at the painting mounted on the left-hand wall. It was a _Marilyn Minter_, she knew that just by sight. Fascinated by the process the artist used, Lily couldn't help gazing at the painting. She wondered what it was called; it featured a shadowed hand cradling a bubblegum bubble, puckered lips out-of-focus in the background. It was fascinating, and the sole piece of whimsy and bursts of colour in the room, cutting through the walnut wainscoting, the desk-chair, the antique Louis table, the rich rusty-rose wallpaper.

She didn't listen to her walkman. She didn't want to associate Adele or _Fleetwood_ _Mac_ with today; being abandoned, her meltdown. Sam, who had somehow found out about her situation, had suggested several albums appropriate in tone and lyric-content to deal with it.

So she just went to bed. An early night, to go to sleep and stop having to _think_, sounded good. She was asleep before the light had been out ten minutes.

It couldn't have been much later that Mrs Cohen was gently rubbing her arm to wake her.

"Sweetie, I just got a call from the fire-department," Mrs Cohen said, and a second later when the thought registered in her sleep-drenched mind, Lily sat up quickly. "No, no, no, it's not about Ryan… My model-home has just burned down. The fire crew are there trying to contain the blaze. I have to head over to the site to see the extent of the damage."

"Oh." Sitting up, rubbing her face with one hand and propping herself up with the other, heaviness that had nothing to do with her tiredness settled on her, and Lily sighed. Frowning, she squeezed her eyes tight before opening them, trying to refresh herself. "Um… D-do you need m-me t-to come with you?"

"No, that's okay, sweetie," Mrs Cohen said gently. "I just wanted to let you know, in case you needed something in the house and no-one's home. Seth and Sandy still aren't back yet."

"Okay," Lily nodded.

"I'd better head over," Mrs Cohen sighed, looking very tired; Lily noticed she wore tight dark jeans, a grey cashmere t-shirt and a subtly edgy leather jacket, with her customary timeless _Hermés_ bag, diamond studs and sleek, rather masculine watch. To run out of the house to check on a burned-down building, Lily didn't know how she looked so pulled-together and chic.

"Okay, well…d'you n-need anything, for when you g-get back?" she asked, already dozing off again sitting up.

"Uh… No, I wouldn't think so," Mrs Cohen said, but Lily was beginning to wake up a little, and as Mrs Cohen disappeared through the main house, Lily sat in the darkened bedroom, the moonlight reflecting off the swimming-pool, glittering against the bedroom wall, and she climbed out of bed, needing some fresh air. Something about the burned model-home was niggling at her brain; she went outside and sat down at the edge of the pool, leaning against one of the pillars of the pergola built into the design of the pool-house, with her toes splish-splashing in the warm water.

From what Mrs Cohen had told her of the new development, it was high in the hills overlooking the ocean, freshly dug-up and removed from most of civilised Newport Beach. She could imagine that the homeless might take advantage of the lack of contractor crews coming in and out of the property at all times, if they knew no-one had been to the development in a while, but a fire, tonight, when Ryan had run away only yesterday and Seth had double-talked his way out of explaining away his day to his parents. It seemed very odd that all these things had happened within a day of Ryan running away.

And who would know better than the developer's son that the model-home had been abandoned?

Thinking about the construction-site, Lily couldn't help thinking about Dawn's ex-boyfriend, Lily's favourite of her mother's boyfriends, who had been kind and too good for Dawn, who met him due to Lily's…sometime-boyfriend being his nephew. Daniel had always said, if they were ever in Texas, he'd hook them up with jobs.

Climbing off the patio, Lily padded inside, aware that she was completely alone in the house; the phone was in its cradle in the kitchen, and, aware of the time, and aware that she hadn't spoken to him for over a week, she dialled Sawyer's number.

Surprised when he picked up, Lily said, "Hey," softly, clearing her throat. "It's Lily."

"_Whoa! Prodigal florist_!" Sawyer chuckled cheerfully. "_Heard a story about you_."

"Oh, yeah?"

"_Yeah. Handsome guy in a Jag came knocking on your mom's door_," Sawyer said. "_Except, your house was completely cleared out_."

"Yeah," Lily said softly.

"_Here I thought you'd started getting into this whole casual-dating thing_," Sawyer chuckled softly. He was always so cheerful; Lily had no idea how they'd never been friends before freshman-year, but casually dating him meant that their friendship included being able to kiss him whenever she could, and not getting so attached that a breakup would mean the end of their friendship.

That was the only reason she had agreed to casual-dating; that she wouldn't get so attached that her heart would be broken when she lost both her friend and her lover. Casual-dating meant she could kiss Sawyer when she wanted to, and be best-friends when she didn't. When she could get hold of him.

"Th-they say absence makes the heart grow f-fonder," Lily said sadly.

"_Sex does that also_," Sawyer remarked, and Lily couldn't help rolling her eyes. "_So what's got you calling me_?"

"H-have you heard from Ryan?" Lily asked.

"_Not since he asked to crash at our place, why_?"

"H-he…ran away, I d-don't know where he is," Lily said quietly. "B-but I remembered your uncle's—offer t-to g-give him a j-job if…h-he was ever in T-t-Texas."

"_Open invitation, I know; Uncle Daniel's doing well for himself out there_," Sawyer said. "_Mom spoke to him the other day, actually_."

"C-c-could you g-give me his number?" Lily asked. "I…n-need to ch-check Ryan's n-not t-tried t-to contact him."

"_Yeah, sure_," Sawyer remarked idly. "_So Ryan just took off_?"

"With D-d-Dawn gone, Ryan's…P-p-P.D. has t-to p-put him into foster…c-care," Lily said.

"_Shit_," Sawyer swore. "_Ryan just dumped you? Never would've thought he'd ever do that to you_."

"Me n-neither," Lily said softly. "Sorry, your uncle's n-number."

"_Yeah, here it is_," Sawyer said, rattling off a number, which Lily jotted down. "_I'm sure if Dan hears anything, he'll let you know_."

"I know," Lily said softly. "D-d-Dan's a good guy."

"_How're you doing_?" Sawyer asked.

"I'm okay."

"_Lily, you're a woman of many talents; lying is not one of them_," Sawyer chided. Lily licked her lips, feeling her shoulders slump.

"M-m-maybe we c-can m-meet up when th-things get settled here," she said softly.

"_Where's 'here'_?"

"Newport Beach."

"_Wow_," Sawyer exclaimed. "_Spend some time with you in a teeny bikini at the beach? That whole casual-dating, separation thing… It's working for me_." Lily smiled to herself. Sawyer was a very nice guy; one of the only ones in her neighbourhood and at her school. They had met during freshman-year, just friends, but affectionate; their casual-dating thing had begun when Sawyer had kissed her, but several other girls wanted to date him. Recently, they had spent time together only when both their work-schedules could allow it, and then, never for very long.

"Well, if you h-hear from Ryan—c-can you…c-call me?" Lily asked, frowning when she heard a noise from the front of the house. She gave Sawyer the Cohens' home-number, said goodbye and hung up the phone, making her way tentatively to the front-door. Seeing flashing blue lights, Lily knew instantly what they meant; she used to go cold every time she heard a siren in her neighbourhood. It was always Trey, bringing trouble, bringing the cops. She guessed Mrs Cohen was back from the building-site.

"—_inside, now_!_ You're grounded. You are _so _grounded_." She heard Mrs Cohen's shout before the front-door burst open, and a chagrined, grimacing Seth slumped over the threshold, followed by an irate Mrs Cohen, Mr Cohen looking tired, confused, but resigned. Lily teetered where she stood, glancing from face to face; as Seth caught sight of her, lingering in the archway to the kitchen, he glanced at his parents; Mrs Cohen gave her son a deadly look that sent him scurrying to the den, and Mr Cohen sighed, catching sight of her.

"Lily!"

"What's happened?" Lily asked, dread filling her as she saw Mr and Mrs Cohen exchange a look.

"Well," Mr Cohen said briskly, taking a deep breath, sighing heavily, "we know where Ryan's been." Lily glanced from him to Mrs Cohen, who looked anxious and hesitant. Her earlier pondering of Ryan's whereabouts and Seth's sketchiness over what he'd been doing all day, the coincidence of the fire after Ryan had disappeared. She frowned.

"What d-do you mean 'b-been'?" she asked softly.

"I'm about to go find out," Mr Cohen said, glancing down the illuminated, painting-galleried corridor toward the den.

"I'll put on some coffee," Mrs Cohen sighed tiredly.

"D-do you want m-me t-to d-do it?" Lily asked.

"Actually, that would be good," Mrs Cohen said. "I have to make a lot of phone-calls." Lily nodded, and while Mr Cohen went after Seth, Lily went into the kitchen, quietly filling a filter with coffee grounds, listening to Mr Cohen and Seth.

Mr Cohen stood with his arms folded across his chest as Seth sat down in the centre of the sofa, looking about four years old with his big brown eyes and shameful expression. Obviously he had little experience lying to his parents. Or getting away with lying to his parents.

"Start talking, Seth," Mr Cohen ordered. "What happened?"

"Marissa and me, we…we hid Ryan here," he said, sounding as guilty as he looked. He glanced at Lily, whose mind went into freefall. Seth had known all along where Ryan was—had sat there this morning in front of the cops, babbling about cock-fights until he had bluffed his way out of potential trouble to _go and hang out with Ryan_, leaving Lily to have a meltdown.

'_Marissa and me_' he had said. That skinny girl from next-door had been in on this little scheme?

"You and Marissa? Marissa _Cooper_?" Mrs Cohen blurted, staring at Seth. He shrugged, his cheeks flaming guiltily as he scuffed his shoes on the rug. "Start explaining!"

"Okay, so…Ryan wanted to run away last night, but didn't have any plan where to go…I remembered Mom's housing development had been abandoned, and Marissa caught us sneaking out of the house when Garrett and Lily were out getting ice-cream, so she invited herself along," Seth sighed, his cheeks warming again as his shoulders drooped under the intensity of Mr Cohen's frown.

"We were gonna hide Ryan there till he got enough money to leave town. He was gonna head to Austin to where an old boyfriend of his mom's lives, who said he'd give Ryan a job. Earlier when you got the call about the fight on the pier, it _was_ about Ryan. We were at the diner getting breakfast, and Luke Ward showed up and picked on me, and Ryan defended me, punching Luke in the face," Seth said, and a glimmer of delight sparked in his dark eyes at the memory, quickly eclipsed by awareness of his parents' anger. "Then Mom showed up at the model-home, and we hid and heard that the new contractors start tomorrow, so I came back here to buy Ryan a Greyhound ticket to Texas, and Marissa and I were gonna pool some cash to give to Ryan for travel-money."

"What about the fire?" Mr Cohen asked.

"I don't know what happened. I do not know why the house burned down," Seth said quickly, shaking his head, and the earnestness in his expression was real.

"What was he even doing there?" Mr Cohen asked. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because he didn't want to go into a foster home!" Seth blurted, as if it should have been obvious. "He didn't want to leave, and I didn't want him to leave either. It's like…you force me to live amongst these _pod _people and the first cool people I meet, you kick them out of the house." He shot Lily a glance, his cheeks warming again, and Lily glanced away, pulling several mugs out of the cupboard.

Nowhere in that explanation had Seth mentioned why Ryan hadn't decided to include her in his plans. Why he hadn't even taken the few thousand dollars she had won from poker at the beach party after the fashion-show.

Mr Cohen sighed and sank down onto the sofa beside his son. The look of despondency on one's face mimicked the other's, and Lily stared at the floor.

"I did the best I could," Mr Cohen sighed heavily.

"So did I," Seth said miserably.

"Come on," Mr Cohen sighed, "the police want to ask us some questions." So did Lily, but she doubted Seth would know what she wanted to hear. Mr Cohen came to help carry mugs of coffee outside to the waiting officers; the cruiser lights had been turned off, and Seth followed them outside. As they exited the house, several of the patrol officers glanced up. Handing coffee around, Lily noticed one of the officers returning from the street; behind him, the Cooper family approached uncertainly.

The angular Marissa, wearing _Uggs_ and a satiny robe, looking like she'd been crying; kind-eyed Mr Cooper; fashion-conscious, young Mrs Cooper with her foxy green eyes and shiny hair, and Garrett. Shirtless, with jeans slung low on his hips, yawning and rubbing his eyes sleepily. He was barefoot as well as shirtless, and it appeared as if he had just thrown on his jeans. Lily licked and nibbled her lower-lip, her stomach doing funny things as her imagination made her focus slip away.

"We have reason to believe your daughter was involved with the culprit responsible for the fire that destroyed a building," the head officer said to Mr Cooper, when Mrs Cooper demanded to know why she and her daughter were being dragged out of their beds. "Mrs Cohen's model-home has been burned to the ground. Mr Cohen over there says he and your daughter hid a Ryan Atwood there while he waited to skip town."

"What? Marissa would never be involved with an _arsonist_," Mrs Cooper snapped indignantly. "Would you, honey?" Marissa looked caged, afraid to say something in front of her mother, but having something to say.

"Marissa, what's going on?" Mr Cooper asked gently.

"Does this have anything to do with why you came home _crying_ tonight?" Mrs Cooper demanded, arms folded across her chest as she scowled at her daughter.

"I—"

"_Marissa_," Mrs Cooper said warningly, her eyes flashing. "You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"

"Mom, I—"

"Did he _do _something to you?"

"No, Mom, he would never—"

"Then why were you crying?" Mrs Cooper demanded coolly.

"I—"

"You said you were going to a party at Holly's house," Mrs Cooper said coolly. "That's where you were all night, right?"

"I—"

"Did you argue with Luke?" Mrs Cooper asked.

"I—"

"Marissa—"

"_Mom_!" Garrett's deep voice cut through the noise, so rich and low, and with his raised, curt, angry tone, he made everything stand still. "Would you just _shut up_." Garrett cast his stunned-looking mother a rather dark scowl. Arms crossed over his chest, arm-muscles flexing, Garrett glanced at his sister, frowning. "Marissa, what did you do?"

"I… I left Holly's party…to go and see Ryan," Marissa said, avoiding her mother's narrowed eyes, glancing guiltily at Lily and Mrs Cohen. Watching her, Lily wondered firstly what she and Ryan had really gotten up to at the abandoned house, and secondly, what Ryan saw in this ultra-skinny, borderline-alcoholic girl. "We…talked, but then he asked me to leave… So I did."

"What time was this?"

"I don't know, forty-five minutes ago?" Marissa said, hunching her shoulders as she gripped her arms.

"Was there any indication Mr Atwood intended to cause damage to the house?" the officer asked.

"Ryan was getting packed to leave the house," Seth spoke up, frowning. "Whatever happened to the house, it's not his fault. I know he wouldn't do something like that on purpose."

"When you say he was getting packed to leave, what do you mean?" the officer asked, ignoring the rest of Seth's indignant exclamation.

"I was supposed to come find him tonight," Seth said, giving his dad a look. "I bought Ryan a Greyhound ticket to Austin. In Texas; Ryan had a friend out there who was willing to give him a job, so Marissa and I pooled some of our allowance to give Ryan travel-money. I bought him the ticket online, I was gonna go drop it off. Tomorrow, I was supposed to give Ryan a ride to the bus-station."

The officer addressed Marissa again. "When you left the house, did you notice Mr Atwood following you? Mr Cohen says he has a bicycle."

"No, I left him in the house," Marissa said quietly.

"Well, we recovered Mr Atwood's BMX from outside the house," the officer said, addressing Mrs Cohen. "We've got cruisers searching the neighbourhood for a pedestrian matching the description you gave us earlier." Handing the last mug of coffee to a very tired-looking cop, Lily glanced up as a huge black pickup, which she recognised from that Luke boy picking up Marissa the first night of their arrival in Newport Beach, pulled up onto the driveway.

Pocketing a set of keys as all eyes turned to him, the blonde boy who had insulted Lily at the fashion-show and instigated a fight with Seth, Ryan and Garrett at the beach-party climbed out of the driver's seat. A slight bruise was pink against his cheek, his Abercrombie shirt looking a little ashen; from around the passenger side of the truck, Ryan emerged.

He had been recently beaten.

Fresh bruises marred his cheeks, one of them with an open wound seeping blood; a cut was swelling beneath his left eye, and there was a nick across his nose, and his lip had been split, now swelling.

The sooty discolouration of his skin gave evidence of just how close he had been to the flames, evidence that he had been in that burning building. He had been _beaten_, sometime before or during the fire. Ash and soot clung to his clothing.

Taking in the severity of the bruises and cuts, Lily turned to stare at Luke. The bruise on his cheek, Ryan's battered, sooty state, the fire…_Marissa_. Lily turned to shoot a glance at the other girl, wondering what she hadn't told the police. What had happened to cause Ryan to get into another fight with Luke, culminating in the destruction of a multi-million dollar building?

Two boys, one girl, Lily and everyone else there glanced from the boys to Marissa, and knew what must have happened.

Approaching Mr and Mrs Cohen with the attitude of a dog used to being beaten for wrongdoings, and knowing he had committed another, Ryan didn't even look at her as Lily stared at him, her eyes and throat burning with emotion at the sight of the beating he had just taken.

"I'm sorry," Ryan apologised, barely glancing into the Cohens' faces. There was disappointment etched in their expressions, but also a strong sense of relief. Yes, the house had burned down—but Ryan hadn't been trapped inside it. Lily had to remember that as Marissa shifted beside her parents, and Lily glared at her. This overly-aggressive jackass Luke, who had bullied Seth at the party without provocation, implied Lily was no better than an escort and started a fight with Ryan after Ryan had caught his friends bullying Seth, while he himself had been hooking up with a girl who wasn't his girlfriend, had followed Marissa from a party, and picked another fight with Ryan. Only during this one, Ryan could have been killed.

And, as the police-officer asked for Ryan's hands to cuff, Ryan glared at the other boy, daring him to keep quiet about where he had come by the bruise he had on his cheek.

Lily heard the chink and grind of handcuffs being attached and tightened, and she closed her eyes. He now had one prior offence. Lily could remember enough about Trey's devolution into criminal behaviour to remember that kids just didn't get a free pass after they had been arrested once already. And arson was a hefty sentence.

If Ryan's face hadn't held evidence of a beating, Lily could have put the fire down to an accident. He hadn't put out his cigarette properly—he'd had a Johnny and Ponyboy moment, only there was no Ponyboy, and thankfully this Johnny hadn't had his back broken by collapsing, flame-ravaged beams.

For a brief moment, Ryan glanced at Lily. He looked away again so quickly, Lily couldn't communicate anything to him. But as the officer led Ryan to his cruiser, they passed Luke, and he blurted, "It was an accident."

The officer paused, looked the boy over, and frowned. "Yeah? You were there?"

The boy glanced around shame-facedly, clocking the Cohens, and Garrett's parents…the look on Marissa's face. He glanced briefly at Lily, who set her jaw, glaring at him. He shrugged, nodding. "Yeah."

"Then we've got some questions for you, too," the officer said. Leading Ryan to the car, another handcuffed the other boy, and Mr Cohen followed after Ryan.

"Officer, I'm Mr Atwood's attorney. Please don't ask him any questions unless I'm present," Mr Cohen said. "Ryan, keep your mouth shut." He glanced across the cruiser, where the other boy was being guided into the car. "You too."

Given Marissa Cooper's admission that she had left her boyfriend at a party to go and see Ryan in the model-home, and Luke's admission that he had been there at the time of the fire, the police-officers who had remained seemed to make more sense of the house being burned down. Whether it was an accident or not, it would fall upon the Newport Group to press charges, and with a multi-million dollar loss, the only thing everybody could be thankful for was that nobody had died. Nobody being Ryan, and the fact that Ryan had forced Luke to give him a ride to the Cohens' house to apologise, knowing there would be trouble, police, someone having to take the blame, without so much as looking at Lily, that cut deeper than Ryan leaving in the first place.

Ryan and girls always equalled drama, and Lily, who had shared a bedroom with Ryan since moving from Fresno, was under no illusions that girls didn't love her brother. It wasn't unusual for Lily to wake up to a girl climbing out of the bedroom-window.

She knew Ryan wasn't stupid enough to mess with another guy's girlfriend—how many times had Trey come home beaten to a pulp because he'd been caught with his hands up the wrong girl's skirt? He'd taught Ryan that no girl was worth it if someone already had a claim on her, and to just move on to the next easy lay. Marissa claimed she had gone to the model-home, they had talked, and she had left.

Lily wasn't the only one who didn't believe that was the whole story. Something had set her boyfriend off enough to start a fight that caused an entire building to be destroyed by fire. A fire that would land entirely on Ryan's shoulders because he was the vagabond without family—_he_ had abandoned the last member, Lily, to run away to Texas—who had a prior arrest, a bad family, and Luke was the son of one of Newport Beach's vapid, selfish elite.

Mr Cohen pulled out of the driveway, following the last of the cruisers, while Mrs Cohen talked quietly with Mr and Mrs Cooper, and as Seth dawdled over to Marissa, Lily glared at her, starting when something warm and heavy touched her shoulder. Glancing away from Marissa, she looked up; Garrett flicked his dark-navy eyes over her face, solemn and concerned.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly. Lily glared at Marissa again, and Garrett linked his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer, and giving her little choice but to loop her arms around his bare waist, leaning her cheek against his chest.

"No," she whispered hoarsely. She felt Garrett sigh, and he linked his bare arms around her, tucking her head under his chin, and Lily stayed in his arms, letting him hug her, because she was upset, and being hugged by him felt good.

"He's gonna be alright," Garrett murmured, and Lily's eyes burned. For the second time in less than a week, Ryan had been picked up by the police. He had never gotten into real trouble before in his life; because of that Marissa girl, he could have _died_. He had run away, intending to go to Texas, without her; even now she knew he was here, safe, _alive_… He was going back into juvi. And this time, he wouldn't be coming out for quite some time. Who would come to take him home?

"No he's not," she whispered, upset.

It was just like Ryan to get in trouble over a girl. Something about Ryan, he was just hardwired to protect people, especially girls. Beautiful women were his kryptonite, and Marissa was probably the hottest girl he'd ever met. Aside from Theresa, of course. But Theresa was another kind of beautiful altogether. Marissa had that sheltered, rich-girl prettiness, the doe-eyes and pouty lips, shiny hair… She was a fairytale, and no finer embodiment of the wealth of Newport Beach could be found than her in her expensive boots and silky robe.

But she had a boyfriend. Yet she'd been helping Seth hide Ryan; she had seen the way they flirted at the party, and she had even woken up beside Marissa when Ryan had acted chivalrously and carried her to the pool-house so she didn't have to spend the night passed out cold on her parents' driveway. She had left a party with her boyfriend to go and see Ryan, alone in an abandoned house in the middle of an empty development. And because of her, Ryan had almost been killed in a fire.

Ryan wasn't a bad boy. He had made a bad choice regarding the car; Trey always hounded him to do things Ryan knew he shouldn't. But this was the second mark on his record, and without any adult guardian to collect Ryan, what would happen now that he had been arrested on charges of arson? Especially since he had inadvertently burned down a multi-million dollar investment of one of the largest property-developers on the West Coast.

He wasn't a bad boy; he'd made a bad choice with the car, and been in the wrong place at the wrong time with the house, but in juvi… Ryan was violent, and prone to fighting, but he had never before won a fight.

"Sandy will get him out," Garrett said comfortingly, but Lily leaned her forehead against his chest, blinking furiously, wondering what would happen now. Either way, whether he was in Texas or in juvi here in Orange County, Ryan was gone. Separated from her. After he had abandoned her. He had run away, left her behind, now he couldn't… Couldn't protect her the way he'd always said he would, if they went out on their own. The way he had protected Theresa, the way he had taken care of Marissa.

If he had just…just stuck with her, had a little faith in her, her plan, her abilities, they could have lived together, safe, protective, affectionate. They could have made a life for themselves without violence, without alcohol or drugs, without danger. Instead, he had run away when she was out of the house, just like Dawn had done. He hadn't wanted to go into foster-care, and despite knowing her plan, he had decided to run away. Seth had helped him; Marissa had almost gotten him killed. But Lily had been left out of the entire plan, no word, Seth had _lied_ to her.

He had been sent to juvi, to a place as violent if not more so than their home, a place packed full to bursting with boys just like Ryan, and worse, boys with no hope, no freedom, regretting the choices they had made, angry, confused, without any futures, aggressive, cornered. He was blonde-haired and blue-eyed and protective, and he would probably get himself killed in there.

"At least you know where he is," Garrett murmured in her ear, pressing his lips to her forehead. Flicking his eyes over her face, he sighed softly. "At least you can go visit him, until he's released." Lily looked down at the floor.

She liked to think she was forgiving. She had forgiven her father for what he'd done a long time ago; compared with what came next, their family had been on par with the Cleavers. Even Dawn—her packing up the house and taking off was exactly something she would do, something Lily would have expected her to do.

Ryan?

He had abandoned her, the last person in the world she had, the only one who'd never let her down or made her feel worthless. He had run away instead of having confidence in her, or even _talking_ to her. If he hadn't wanted to go into foster-care, he should have talked to Mr Cohen about emancipation, like she had.

Go and visit him? See him, in that place?

Garrett rubbed her arm comfortingly, seeming to understand a little of what flickered through her expression. "Maybe he had a plan, I don't know," he said softly, glancing at his parents, who walked past, Mrs Cooper looking venomous, sneering at Lily as if she was something on the underside of her expensive silk slipper. He sighed, glancing back at Lily. "I'd better get home." Lily nodded; Garrett briefly hugged her, and when she lifted her arms from around his waist, she felt suddenly bereft. His heat, his height, the richness of his voice, his perfect shoulder-muscles. She sighed softly, glancing at the front-door to the Cohen house, through which Mrs Cohen was banishing her son, possibly until he was thirty-five. Garrett glanced back at her as he trailed after his family.

Feeling incredibly ashamed, of her brother, her family, _herself_, Lily hunched her shoulders and glanced back at the Cohen house. Following Mrs Cohen inside uncertainly, she lingered in the foyer, wavering on the spot just inside the door, anxious over what to do with herself. However accidentally, Ryan had just burned down Mrs Cohen's already troublesome model-home. That put Lily in an awkward position as much as it put Ryan in a lot of legal trouble; unless she brought her things down and cycled to Empire Records and took up Joe's offer to sleep on the couch in the employee lounge, Lily had to depend on Mr and Mrs Cohen—Mrs Cohen especially—to allow her house-room. '_At least until the situation is resolved_', Mr Cohen had said. But that was before his wife had lost millions of dollars in investment in a fire her brother had been indirectly responsible for.

"Seth, bedroom, now," Mrs Cohen said curtly, with the ringing force of a woman used to giving orders and having them carried out. Seth shot Lily a pained glance and loped off to the glass staircase, bypassing the vibrant Richard Phillips art piece. "And stay there until your father gets back!"

"House-arrest, got it," Seth remarked coolly.

"Watch it!" Mrs Cohen called icily, and Seth sighed as he turned and continued up past the clear glass banister, disappearing into the upstairs hallway. Mrs Cohen groaned, fingers pressed to her eyes, and she stalked across the formal living-room to her little desk, picking up her phone.

"Mrs Cohen?" Lily said quietly, before she could start pressing numbers on the phone, and the older woman glanced up. Lily licked her lips nervously, running her foot against the back of her ankle. "I'm sorry."

Mrs Cohen's features relaxed, though she still retained the pristine blonde beauty which was almost icy in its purity. Sighing softly, she said, "Sweetie, this wasn't your fault." When Lily glanced down at the floor, feeling ashamed and embarrassed, and guilty for the costs of the damage from the fire, Mrs Cohen sighed again. "Why don't you head back up to bed? You've had a very long day." Lily glanced up, nodded subtly, and made her way up the stairs, following in Seth's wake.

He was waiting for her in the upstairs hall.

Lily didn't know what to say to him. He and Marissa had been helping Ryan re-enact _The_ _Fugitive_. Seth had known the entire time where Ryan was. He didn't know about Lily's meltdown, but Mrs Cohen did, and Ryan disappearing had triggered it; Seth could have prevented Lily embarrassing herself in front of Mrs Cohen. She could have tried to convince Ryan to come back, to ask Mr Cohen about emancipation, so that he didn't _have_ to go into foster-care, to rely on the flawed Child Services.

More than that, Seth and Ryan had bonded; they had shared this experience with Marissa, but left Lily to have a meltdown, to think herself completely abandoned and alone in the world.

Seth didn't seem to know what to say either. He stood there, looking anxious and guilty. While Seth and Ryan had been bonding in an abandoned house, she had been working, trying to make some money to save, to get a place of her own…

"You knew where h-he was…the ent-t-tire t-time," she said softly, and, unable to express anything else, she made her way to the bedroom Mrs Cohen had moved her into, closing the door quietly behind her.

She knew it wasn't Seth's fault. He had done what he had felt was right by Ryan. But that had left Lily alone, upset, betrayed. In twenty years, lonely Seth would remember the night he had stashed his friend in an abandoned model-home to help him escape foster-care. Lily might remember bursting into tears in front of Mrs Cohen. Maybe she would remember Garrett's tan against his white t-shirt, the hickey on his neck, how _good_ he smelled, and maybe she would remember laughing and dancing with Sam as he tried to start her education in classic rock music. She would remember the beach, with Garrett, the Balboa Bar, _talking_… But that was a different day. She would associate today with her meltdown, Ryan _abandoning_ her.

She wanted this day to be over. Once more, she tucked herself under the covers, and quickly fell asleep, miserable.

* * *

**A.N.**: What do you think?


	13. Shmear, Centurion and Gallifray

**A.N.**: Please review.

* * *

**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_12_

* * *

Yesterday she had overslept and been completely oblivious to her brother running away. Lily woke bright and early, and very quickly. Her return to consciousness was so abrupt that she lay wide-awake in bed for several seconds before realising that she _was_ actually awake and staring at the ceiling of the Cohen family's guest-bedroom, not having a meltdown over being forced to write a two-thousand word essay for her History class, due in for two days' time, while her old Chemistry teacher burst into her room announcing she had a ten-thousand word assignment due the next day.

It was early July, and Lily had received an A+ in AP Chemistry last year. So why she was having a nightmare about missed assignments, she didn't understand. She wondered why she had woken so abruptly, before a shadow moved, and she lost ten years from her life jumping so hard.

"_Seth_!"

"It's me," said the blurry shadow over by the windows. A second later, the blinds were whipped up, letting pure, unadulterated morning sunlight splash across the floor, blinding her. Clapping her hands to her face, she groaned.

"What're you…d-doing?" she moaned.

"Figured we should get some quality Seth-Lily time on the books before Herr Sandy and Madam Kovarian—that's a _Doctor Who _reference, especially for you, I noticed your TARDIS lunch-box while I was rummaging through its contents earlier—return from surfing or rouse and start imposing my grounding," Seth chattered. It took a moment for Lily to catch up. As her eyesight acclimated to the intense brightness, she noticed that Seth seemed to be wearing his pyjamas; at least, he wore the same combination of plaid bottoms and a smart-ass t-shirt as he had the morning she had first met him.

"What t-time is it?" she asked quietly.

"Half-past six."

"In th-the _morning_?"

"As I said, I needed to catch you before the parental units impose strict no-talking measures on my grounding," Seth said.

"Stop you t-talking?" Lily grumbled.

"You're sassy when you're sleep-deprived." Lily sighed, dropping her hands, and glared over at Seth.

"What d-do you want t-to t-talk about?" she asked glumly.

"Well, I guess I have to explain a few things," Seth said, shuffling over to invite himself to climb into bed beside her, snuggling under the cover. Recalling that she had left Seth in the hallway last night without giving him a chance to explain his part in Ryan's abandonment of her, Lily sighed, plumping her pillows behind her, and leaned back, watching Seth.

"Why didn't you t-tell me?" Lily asked quietly.

"All part of the plan," Seth said, flashing a grin. "Okay, so, I caught Ryan trying to sneak off while you were out with Garrett Cooper, like I said, and since he didn't have any plan, I suggested we'd hide him in my mom's model-home 'til he figured out what to do." Lily gazed, eyes at half-mast, at Seth; she knew this. "So, yesterday, Marissa and I met up with Ryan, and we went to the diner on the pier, to talk about ideas. Ryan had this idea that he'd go out to Texas to meet your mom's ex-boyfriend and get a construction job."

"What about me?" Lily asked quietly, shyly glancing at Seth.

Used to taking care of herself, and everyone else, Lily didn't like wondering whether anyone had thought about her, because the case usually was that nobody did; but she wanted to know if Ryan had even thought about her, felt guilty for abandoning her, while he ran away while she was hanging out with a new friend.

"Well, that's where I came up with the most awesome plan," Seth grinned. "It was flawed, potentially, but it can be adapted! So the only reason my mom doesn't want you and Ryan staying with us is because she's freaked out I might end up getting shot in a drive-by—which is probably impossible given that we live in _Newport Beach_!—right? I figured that if Ryan was out of the picture for a little while, my mom might not be so…well, she might let _you_ stay, since your record's pristine, and you're a really nice girl, and she's worried about you."

"She is?" Lily asked, glancing over at Seth. Seth shrugged.

"Yeah. She told me…about your, uh, meltdown yesterday," Seth said quietly. Lily blushed and glanced away. "I'm sorry we upset you."

"You could've told me," Lily said quietly, glancing back at him.

"Ryan didn't want to," Seth said. "He was worried you wouldn't let him leave, said you'd always promised you wouldn't let him run away by himself, that you'd go with him. He wanted to get out of the picture so I could convince my parents to let you stay."

"He did?" Lily said softly.

"He said you deserved to have a real family take care of you," Seth said softly, his dark eyes gentle as they roved over her face. Lily shook her head, sighing. It was so like Ryan to do something like this—sacrifice his own future to help someone else, without even thinking about the consequences for himself. But nobody had taken care of Lily for years now, and she couldn't just stop and let someone pick up the slack and wait on her hand-and-foot.

"Why would you want m-me sticking around for, anyhow?" she asked curiously. Seth shrugged, grinning.

"You're one of the two nicest people I've ever met," he said, shrugging. "And my mom won't let us get a pet." Lily smiled briefly, before sighing, resting her head back, and thinking.

"D-did Ryan t-tell you I wanted t-to get emancipated?" she asked.

"What, like divorce your mom?" Seth asked. "I thought only child-stars did that." Lily shrugged. "No, he didn't mention it."

"Well, I t-told him," Lily said, glancing at Seth. "We c-could've…lived b-by ourselves and—worked and…spent t-time with you, here."

"You would've stuck around Newport?" Seth asked, and Lily nodded.

"Maybe," she sighed softly, her mind going to Garrett Cooper. "Will n-now… I've g-got a job, n-now I have t-to…find a p-place—t-to live."

"Don't be stupid, you're staying here," Seth said. Lily glanced at him, frowning; he was dozing peacefully, and she sighed, taking in the crystal-clear forget-me-not sky.

"I'm sorry we didn't talk to you about it," Seth said quietly, a little while later. "We just…we thought we were doing what was best for you." Sounding so apologetic, Lily couldn't make Seth feel worse by telling him off for helping her brother.

"I know you w-wanted t-to d-do right b-by Ryan," she said softly. After a moment, Seth sighed, and sat up.

"So. Tell me _all_ about your date with Garrett Cooper. I wanna hear _all_ the hairy details," Seth said, grinning eagerly. Lily blushed.

"It wasn't a d-date," she said shyly.

"The most gorgeous guy on the West Coast took you out for ice-cream, it _wasn't a date_?" Seth smirked.

"We j-just…t-talked," Lily said softly.

"No groping?"

"No!"

"Not even any kissing?"

"N-n-none whatsoever."

"You really don't have any juicy gossip?"

"N-not even a little b-bit."

"Damn," Seth frowned, looking put-out. "Who'd have thought Garrett Cooper was a _gentleman_."

"Is he n-not?"

"He's the Javier of Newport Beach," Seth said, as if that should have said it all. Catching her expression, he explained, "Javier, from _Telenovela_. He's a gorgeous rake." Lily blinked.

"_You_ watch _Telenovela_?" Seth sat up straighter, eagerness causing a grin to splash across his face.

"On _Telemundo_? _Univision_?" he grinned, and Lily nodded. "Have you been watching recently?"

"The b-boat b-burning—"

"Juan Carlos is still missing—"

"I _hate_ him—"

"Totally evil—"

"D-d-do you think Eva d-drugged him, spilt the t-tequila and set it on fire?"

"I'm not sure; either her, or Jorge."

"Juan Carlos' son?"

"From his first marriage—whose mom died in suspicious circumstances when Jorge was fifteen."

"History rep-p-peating itself. Eva might have had enough. I've m-missed the last few d-days. Has Esmeralda found out th-that Jorge is Juan Carlos' son?"

"Not yet. Did you see the episode where they got it on?"

"Oh, yeah! Before Yolanda's Christening."

"I've been waiting for them to get together since Thanksgiving."

"Th-they are so sweet t-together. Have the t-twins m-met each other yet?"

"Silvia and Serafina? Not yet. Still waiting; I'm hopeful today's episode will bring them together."

"They're chalk and cheese."

"And dating the same guy!" Seth grinned.

"Tart," Lily nodded.

"Well, can you blame Christian? Those twins are _gorgeous_," Seth remarked, and Lily laughed softly.

"I j-just d-don't think he c-could g-go on f-for so long th-thinking they're th-the same girl," Lily frowned thoughtfully. "I'm glad they've p-put Jelena and Marcus' story on the b-back-burner for a little while."

"Victor's met a new woman," Seth said, and Lily glanced up.

"Really?"

"Izabel," Seth grinned. "She's a swimsuit model with a heart."

"What about Elizaveta?"

"Oh, she's still in the picture. Sucking the will to live out of everyone except Victor," Seth sighed.

"I thought Victor had c-cancer," Lily frowned.

"They removed the lump yesterday," Seth said, and Lily nodded.

"H-has Roano got the p-paternity test yet?" she asked.

"No," Seth shook his head. "But by the promos, there's some drama to come! Thank god, it was getting kinda boring for a while there."

"They made an error k-killing off Therese," Lily nodded.

"Yeah, but the actress was pregnant," Seth waved a hand idly. "And anyway, we never actually got confirmation that the body was Therese."

"It c-could have been either Therese or Inez."

"Inez is _crazy_. But she'd go after Tulio's _other_ wife," Seth agreed. "Maybe it was a fight-to-the-death. We haven't seen Inez in a while. Maybe you're right; maybe it was Inez' body. Therese has just disappeared for a while till things calm down."

"She'll return when we l-least expect it," Lily nodded. "Hey, what d-did you th-think t-to Elian's new wife sleeping with Anastasio?"

"Oh, yeah, Elian's grandson? Luiza was hot," Seth grinned. "And she was way closer to Anastasio's age. Too bad she had to leave."

"After t-taking Anastasio's virginity."

"Yeah, poor guy," Seth said, giving her a sardonic look.

"He loved her," Lily said, and Seth shrugged, acquiescing. Seth gave her a quiet, thoughtful smile, then grinned. "I c-can't believe you watch _Telenovela_."

"It's good for my Spanish," Seth grinned. "Dad likes to watch it, too, for the same reason; some of the people he helps have broken English, especially when he does _pro_ _bono_ work… So. Emancipation, huh. You think that's the best plan?"

"I'd rather t-take c-care of myself… Because I can. I d-don't want t-to go into foster-care," Lily said. Seth gave her a thoughtful look.

"You're kinda too young to live by yourself," he said quietly. She sighed, shrugging her shoulder slightly.

"I wanted…Ryan t-to—live with…m-me," she said softly. "Just the t-two of us, and—n-no-one…else." She sighed, glancing at Seth. "I th-thought about staying in…N-n-Newport B-Beach so we c-could—b-be friends." Momentarily, a grin flashed across Seth's face. Then he sighed, his features clouding, and he gave her a guilty look.

"You're right," he said quietly. "We should have talked to you first… I was just…excited that I could convince my parents to let you stay with us."

"We c-could have spent a lot of t-time together anyway," Lily said. She had a feeling that if she and Ryan had found their own little place, Seth would have been a permanent fixture there.

"Hm," Seth said thoughtfully, frowning. "You know, I'm reminded of someone very wise who said something incredibly appropriate for this moment."

"Oh, really?" Lily asked curiously. Seth nodded.

"In the immortal words of Dr Seuss, '_You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go_'." Seth gave her a sweet smile, and Lily chuckled softly, nodding.

"_Oh, the Places You'll Go_!" she said, recalling the poem from one of her childhood reading-books. Dr Seuss, Mr Men, the Gruffalo and Winnie the Pooh had been essential bedtime-reading.

"Yeah. I found it in your TARDIS lunch-box," Seth nodded. "Nice passport photo, BTW." Lily sighed, glancing at Seth. "Um, by the way, why do you have over four-_thousand_ dollars in cash stashed in there?"

"I n-need to go t-to the bank and make a d-d-deposit," Lily said, rubbing her face.

"Well, if you want, we can stop by when you come with me to work," Seth said, and Lily put her hands down, shooting him an inquisitive look. "Yeah, I figured out a loophole around my grounding. I've got work today, and if you say Joe asked you to pick up a few shifts at _Empire_ today, we can hang out at the store."

"Er…"

"Don't worry; my parents won't check up on us," Seth said, waving an idle hand. "They know I have work today; and with the fire, Mom will be working late for ages, and my dad will have to put in a few visits at juvi to see Ryan…" He trailed off, shooting Lily a covert, guilty glance. "And, even if my dad _does_ come and check up on our story, you can just say you stopped over at _Centurion_ while you were on a break from _Empire_."

"What's _Centurion_?" Lily asked.

"Comic-book store," Seth said.

"By _Empire_," Lily said, nodding, remembering the sign upstairs to _Centurion_ _Comics _in the outdoor plaza.

"Yeah, so, you up for it?" Seth asked. "Hanging out, I mean? You don't have work." Lily nodded.

"I have t-to d-drop off an ap-app-application at P-p-_Posie_, if th-that's okay," Lily said, and Seth shrugged.

"Yeah, and we can hit the bank, too," Seth said, tapping the TARDIS lunch-box. "You really shouldn't keep all that cash lying around."

"It wasn't…lying—around," Lily said. "It was _hidden_…inside a latched—box."

"Semantics," Seth said, waving a hand. Climbing out of bed, he said, "I'm gonna go get all sexy for work." Shuffling out of the bedroom, Lily heard him close the door, and she sat, sighed softly, and pulled herself out from under the incredibly soft sheets. Padding over to the panorama of windows, she found the little silver handles to the doors, and stepped down into the balcony.

It was beautiful, serene, in the early morning. The sky was touched with forget-me-not, soft clouds drifting idly past on the horizon, limned with silver, the ocean glittering prettily. Crickets no longer chirped, but the gentle rush of the ocean that had swept her off to sleep was pleasant as the sea breeze caressed her skin. For a moment, Lily felt frozen in time, on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Nothing but sky, and sea. Throw in Christopher Atkins, or Garrett Cooper, Lily could re-enact scenes from her favourite movie, _The Blue Lagoon_.

Leaving the doors open to air out the room, Lily rummaged through the contents of her duffel-bag and pulled out a fresh t-shirt, underwear and realised she needed to do some laundry soon. The bathroom was incredibly beautiful, a sleek, very modern, minimalistic white console featuring several round mirrors and an oval dish featuring scented candles, a mini orchid and _L'Occitane_ liquid soap; the pristine white bath was freestanding, the shower, a walk-in steam shower with a white-marble seat, and on the wall was an Ann Carrington art-piece made entirely of ivory buttons, in the design of an English postage-stamp of the Queen.

Lily would have loved a Marilyn Minter in her bathroom. The luxury was staggering, and she wondered how the encased art piece would be affected by the steam from the shower. Showering, she did her hair and made her way downstairs, leaving her shoes tucked under the sleek West Elm table at the foot of the staircase, on which a clear lamp, a collection of photographs and a ceramic bowl, featuring a collection of sunglasses and keys, were arranged.

"Morning!" Lily jumped, peeking around the kitchen, and saw Mr Cohen standing by the coffee-maker. He grinned, offering her the jug, but Lily shook her head.

"No, thank you, I'm fine," she said quietly, managing a shy smile.

"Not a coffee-drinker, huh," Mr Cohen smiled easily. "There should be some milk in the refrigerator for you to heat up. You want some cereal, a bagel? I can teach you the art of the shmear."

"What's '_shmear_'?" Lily asked curiously, and Mr Cohen grinned, reaching for a white plastic appliance beside the bagel-basket.

"Pick out a bagel; I'll show you," he said happily. Lily eyed the collection of bagels and picked out a safe-looking golden one. Mr Cohen separated the two parts of the little appliance, dropped the bagel into the slot, and used the guillotine-style blade to cut it cleanly in half. Popping the halves into the toaster, Mr Cohen filled delicate white porcelain coffee-cups with strong black coffee, filled a little glass with milk for Lily and took a tub of Philadelphia from the fridge. Bringing out a plate, Mr Cohen smiled, plucking the toasted halves of the bagel out, and whipped out a knife.

"The shmearing of a bagel is something of an art-form, you know," he began sombrely, flicking the lid off the Philadelphia, loading up the knife. "Now, the secret is all in the cream-cheese." Watching Mr Cohen _shmear_ his bagel, Lily glanced at the older man. She had been asleep before Mr Cohen had returned from the precinct. She imagined he had been up late, sitting in with Ryan while he was questioned about the fire.

When Mr Cohen smiled broadly and pushed a napkin bearing two halves of bagel laden with cream-cheese to her, Lily licked her lips shyly and glanced at him.

"So what's…happening?" she asked quietly. As Mr Cohen licked his lips of cream-cheese, he poured himself a coffee, swallowed, and said, "Well, according to Ryan, and Luke Ward, the fire was an accident. Because I am just _that_ charming, Kirsten's company has dropped all the arson charges against Ryan."

Lily nodded; without any charges being pressed, they couldn't detain Ryan. Or they wouldn't have been able to, if Dawn had been able to come and collect him.

"H-how long until he c-can g-get out?" Lily asked, knowing she wouldn't like the answer.

"Thirty to sixty days," Mr Cohen sighed, and Lily glanced up quickly. Two months? He would miss all of summer vacation—he wouldn't have any chance to make any money before the new school year started… "If I could get him released into the custody of a guardian, I could get Ryan out sooner." Lily nodded. "So, has Seth figured out the loophole Kirsten and I omitted when we grounded him?"

"I'm g-going t-to work with Seth t-today," Lily said, blushing subtly, and Mr Cohen chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well, keep him out of any more trouble, huh," he said, and Lily nodded.

"Hey, Lily," someone said, and she glanced up, seeing Seth moseying toward them, swinging a chain nametag lanyard from his hand, and Lily tried to smile.

"You off to work?" Mr Cohen asked his son, and Seth frowned, smoothing his features until he looked blasé, uncaring; he reached into a cupboard for his dinosaur cereal, and Mr Cohen scowled. "I asked you a question, Seth."

"Yeah, I'm going to work, since it's the only thing you're _allowing_ me to do now," Seth remarked tartly, pouring cereal into a bowl. Lily glanced from Seth to his dad, feeling suddenly uneasy. Though Ryan was no longer in their house, he was still causing tension between the Cohen family-members, and Lily knew Seth wouldn't stop giving his parents attitude until Ryan was welcomed into the family-home.

The last thing she would want—the last thing she knew Ryan would want, too—was Seth getting in trouble for helping her brother.

"You're lucky you're only grounded," Mr Cohen said curtly.

"You're right. I could be in jail," Seth retorted coldly. "Why didn't you bring him home?"

"Seth, I can't—I'm Ryan's attorney," Mr Cohen sighed. "Ryan can only be released into the custody of his parent or legal guardian."

"And yet, Ryan was the victim; Luke Ward followed Marissa to the model-home and picked a fight with Ryan—and _Ryan's_ the one stuck in juvi?" Seth said, angry in his indignation.

"The fire was an accident," Mr Cohen sighed.

"So why isn't Ryan home with us?" Seth demanded heatedly. "This is just _Mom_ being overprotective and paranoid. And selfish."

"Seth," Mr Cohen said warningly.

"I'm gonna get some snacks," Seth said to Lily, glaring at his dad before turning his back to raid the cupboard filled with treats. Lily went into the garden, picking an orange and some fresh figs, tucking them into the mesh pockets of her backpack as Seth handed her a Ziploc bag filled with an assortment of treats, some _Goldfish_, a bottle of sparkling peach _Izze_ juice and a bottle of _Arizona_ raspberry iced-tea.

Saying goodbye to Mr Cohen, Lily followed Seth out of the house; she made sure she had her completed application and a copy of her résumé (Mrs Cohen had allowed Lily to access her email, on which she kept an email from herself containing the complete Word document file of her résumé) and pushed off, following Seth as he coasted on his skateboard. They followed the same path that Garrett had driven yesterday; she had tucked her name-tag into her backpack just in case, and had her emergency-cash and paying-in book; Seth let her stop by the local branch of her bank, and she made a cash deposit of the four-thousand dollars to her account, relieved she didn't have to carry that much money around in cash, on her person.

Seth darted into _Centurion Comics_, a little shop with red window-trim, the second he unlocked the door; Lily saw him punch the code into a little silver alarm, and entered the shop after him, curiously peeking around.

She had never been inside a comic-book store; there was a metal counter to which clear cases were attached, filled with comics, a cosy corner of yellowish-gold sofas, with a flat-screen television; the right-hand wall was filled with clear-fronted little cubbies in which glossy, colourful comic-books were set out—in alphabetical-order, by the looks of it. There were superhero t-shirts pinned to the walls, posters, curious collectibles littering the surfaces, life-size cardboard cut-outs, and a tall glass cabinet filled with figurines. A selection of comic-books-turned-movies available for sale, as well as comics-turned-video-games. Seth had Lily bring her bicycle into the back inventory-room, to keep it safe, instead of locking it up outside all day. While a pot of coffee brewed in the little kitchenette, Seth flitted around the store, straightening up displays, putting up a new flier in the window, sweeping the floor.

"How long have you b-been working here?" Lily asked curiously. She knew business owners had to have a lot of trust in their employees to let them open up shop, without supervision. She herself was a favourite amongst her former employees.

"Pretty much since it opened, a couple years ago," Seth shrugged. "Believe it or not, I was the owner's best customer. Practically kept him afloat during the first months."

"You know, I can believe that," Lily smiled. Seth finished straightening out several displays and started darting around the room.

"Okay, so, if you're going to be my friend, you're gonna have to start reading comic-books," Seth declared. "I'm gonna start you off with some basics, okay. _Batman: The Dark Knight Returns_. Very important. _Watchmen_…and…_The Sandman_." The coffee brewing, Seth flitted around the store, plucking comic compilation books from shelves by the cosy-corner, and dumping them in Lily's arms. "Oh! And you can't be my friend if you haven't read_ The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay_." He dumped a huge volume on top of the others, and as Lily staggered to the sofa, she noticed a large cardboard box.

"What's this?" she asked, and Seth grimaced as he ripped a plastic envelope form the box, reading an invoice.

"New media console to go under the TV," Seth said, gesturing at the flat-screen television, and Lily noticed that a DVD player and several stacks of DVDs were being stored on top of upturned orange crates. "And it was supposed to come _assembled_."

Seth grimaced again as he scored through the tape on the box, ripping the flaps open and revealing a lot of pieces of white-painted wood. "This is a whole lot of lifting and DIY, it's not really my area of expertise," he groaned. "My people, we're not what you'd call _handy_. We hire people to do this for us."

"I can help you p-p-put it together," Lily suggested, reaching into the box for the instruction manual. "Don't suppose you have a hammer anywhere?" Seth looked at her as if she was speaking Gallifreyan. "I'll l-look in the b-back-room." Seth nodded, kicking the cardboard box out of the way, and grabbing a mug and poured himself a coffee in the little kitchenette.

"We don't have milk here, but there're some _Capri Sun_ pouches," he called.

"I'm not thirsty, th-thanks," Lily said.

For an hour, Lily helped Seth get the shop tidied up; she helped restock the comic-books, dusted the collectibles cabinet, went to buy another bag of ground coffee from the little gourmet tea shop the other end of the plaza, and allowed Seth to begin educating her on the world of comic-books. In the back inventory-room, filled with cardboard boxes stuffed with memorabilia, comic-books, collectibles, posters and a lot of odd junk, Lily found a toolbox, and, armed with a hammer and Philips screwdriver, she returned to the shop-floor.

Almost cutting his finger off—and requiring a Batman Band-Aid—when he got a paper-cut from the instruction manual, Seth decided to sit out the construction of the console. Lily was left to her own devices in the cosy-corner, while Seth helped several regulars looking to complete their inventory and purchase protective sleeves for their comics, and Seth sent a young boy crying, after he'd had the audacity to ask for a comic based on the _Avengers_ movie.

It was just as well Seth had decided he was too injured to help her; he tried, once, to help hold the pieces of the cabinet together, and ended up nearly snapping one piece of wood in half when he overbalanced and tumbled over, his knee digging into a side-panel. Lily sat in the corner, surrounded by pieces of the console, nails, bolts, a bag of treats from the Cohen pantry, doing a man's job and constructing the media-console cabinet while Seth swept the floor, dusted things and grumbled about having nothing to do because nobody read comics these days.

The console finished, filled with games-consoles, a DVD-player, stacks of DVDs and video-games, Seth looked pleased as he connected the flat-screen television to the DVD-player, and Lily brought her backpack out from the kitchenette.

"D-do you m-mind if I g-go and hand th-this in?" she asked, taking her résumé and application out of her backpack.

"Go ahead; I'll hold down the fort," Seth smiled, and Lily made her way out of the shop, downstairs, and over to _Posie_. Noticing that a great number of women were going in and out of the shop, while the lady she had spoken to yesterday was setting out several cream-enamel buckets with freshly made-up posies to grab by the door, Lily smoothed her hair nervously, and made her way inside the shop. Yesterday, she had seen the floral display at the end of the working-day; now, the number of enamel buckets out, filled with flowers of every kind, in the most stunning colours and of the most exquisite quality, had easily tripled. Their scent perfuming the air was absolutely divine; Lily glanced at another employee helping a very made-up customer put together a custom bouquet.

Biting her lip shyly, Lily approached the small counter on which the cash-register and a stack of chocolate-brown tissue paper were located; when the woman had finished putting together the posy and sent the customer off after paying, Lily approached the counter. The woman gave her the customary polite greeting, before seeming to recognise who she was.

"Oh, hi!" she smiled brightly. "Hey, I was just talking about you. Your ears must've been burning! Is that your application?"

"I p-put all m-my latest d-details in with m-my résumé," Lily said, her cheeks warming shyly as she handed her résumé and application over. Theresa's mother worked in Human Resources, and knew how to write a really effective résumé; thankfully, Lily had a lot to put in hers, and her references were all extremely enthusiastic. The only thing different about this application was that she had had to ask Mrs Cohen whether she minded Lily putting their home-number down as her primary contact. At least for the moment; as soon as her emancipation went through, she would have to use her only contact in Newport Beach as her first contact.

"Kathryn's in back," the woman said. "I'll just go get her."

"Oh," Lily said, her cheeks warming again as she ran a hand over her t-shirt, aware that she was on one of her last clean t-shirts; she needed to ask Mrs Cohen whether she minded Lily using the washing-machine.

"Don't worry," the woman smiled. "We're all very casual here." She disappeared behind a muslin curtain into a back room, and when she returned, she was with a well-preserved blonde who reminded Lily of Brigitte Bardot.

"Hi!" she beamed, all dazzlingly-white teeth and sparkling, winged eyes. "You must be Lily!" She nodded. The blonde stuck her hand out, smiling. "I'm Kathryn." A little overwhelmed by Kathryn's enthusiasm, Lily glanced shyly from her to her employee, fumbling anxiously with the hem of her t-shirt. Kathryn gave her a look, seeming to understand her shyness, and gestured Lily to follow her. Lily did, past the muslin curtain into the back room, easily double the size of the front shop and neatly organised with bookcases stocked with inventory, a gift-wrapping station with more of the chocolate-brown tissue paper, raffia and little recycled paper bags printed with the _Posie_ letterhead, and buckets of more flowers, counters devoted to several arrangements being made up, under which were tubs filled with greenery, wet and dry blocks for flowers and trays of little succulents, cacti, herbs and potted plants. Tucked in a corner was a small desk with a laptop and several letter-organisers, a printer and a stack of business-cards, and a staircase cluttered with little enamel buckets, decorative watering-cans, bud-vases and boxes of other merchandise disappeared upstairs.

Kathryn pulled out a folding garden chair, set it down and patted the seat. "Have a seat. D'you want something to drink?"

"I'm f-fine th-thank you," Lily said shyly. Kathryn smile, tucking her flippy skirt beneath her as she sat.

"Okay, so, let me see your application," Kathryn smiled, and Lily handed it over with her résumé, glad she had put her collection of photographs of floral arrangements in her backpack. Letting the older lady go through the details on her application, Lily couldn't help turning to take in everything in the back room. The flowers, the half-completed arrangements, one of the other employees ducking back to put together a posy, tugging greenery from under the cabinet, wrapping the finished posy with sturdy cellophane lined with the chocolate-brown tissue-paper and some raffia.

"Oh, you've got Kirsten Cohen as your emergency contact," Kathryn said, and Lily blushed slightly as she nodded. Sudden realisation illuminated the older lady's features, and she smiled. "You were at the fashion-show," she said, smiling warmly, and Lily nodded. "You looked absolutely stunning standing beside Garrett Cooper."

"I…d-don't think we were introduced," Lily said embarrassedly, liking the compliment.

"Oh, don't worry—we all tend to merge into one at those sorts of things," Kathryn said. She gave Lily a quick glance that Lily didn't miss; she was _that girl_, sister to _that boy_ who had burned down a house, stolen a car and gotten into fights. "So… So, I heard about your brother." Lily shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks heating, and she rubbed her arm. "Do you mind me asking what really happened?" Lily glanced up, saw Kathryn's earnest expression, and sighed softly. She told Kathryn, in broken language, but doing her best, about Dawn, about Ryan running away, Seth helping him, aided by Marissa Cooper and then abetted by her boyfriend, who had started the fight that caused the fire.

"So your brother's still in juvenile-hall?" Kathryn frowned.

"Until we c-can g-get him released into the c-custody of a g-guardian…it will b-be one t-to two months before he c-can come home…" Except, they didn't have a home.

"And what's gonna happen with you in the meantime?" Kathryn asked.

"I'm…t-trying to p-pursue emancipation," Lily said, and Kathryn's eyes widened. "I have some money saved up, and I p-picked up some work at Empire Records, b-but…I still n-need somewhere to live and some m-more work."

"You mean live by yourself?" Kathryn asked, and Lily nodded. Suddenly wondering whether she could sign Ryan out of juvi as his guardian if she was legally emancipated, she made a note to ask Mr Cohen later. "Well, if you've got Sandy and Kirsten watching out for you, you'll be okay no matter what." Again a little surprised that this woman attended country-club fundraisers, perhaps she saw that surprise in Lily's expression, because Kathryn smiled. "This is my little hobby; it keeps me from going nuts! My husband is_ very_ thankful for it. I'm making money, not spending his!" Lily smiled.

"It's a b-beautiful shop," she said shyly. "I only saw a f-few things yesterday, b-but the th-things you stock are lovely."

"Thank you," Kathryn beamed.

"And I've…n-never—seen such exquisite flowers," Lily said honestly.

"Have you worked—yes, you've worked at a florist before," Kathryn said, scanning Lily's list of prior employment. "Three? So you know what you're talking about!"

"I b-brought an album I k-keep photos of all th-the arrangements I've d-done," Lily said, opening her backpack and taking out the neat file-folder. It was fat with photographs she had taken of every formal arrangement she had put together, spanning her three different employers. "I th-thought it would b-be a good idea t-to show you what I c-can do."

"Oh, great!" Kathryn beamed, taking the album. As she searched through each page, she addressed her needs as pertaining to the hiring of another body to help her with weddings, events and expo-setups.

"We've got at least three major events every week, which is a lot to handle between the five of us," Kathryn said, "and on top of that, we're working out on the shop-floor, greeting customers, making sure displays are stocked, taking in deliveries and doing inventory—cleaning up back here is a big thing, otherwise we run the risk of slipping on a wet bit of greenery or a stalk and throwing our backs out! What I'm really looking for is someone to stay upstairs and just do the arrangements, without worrying about the shop-floor. By the looks of these arrangements, you're more than capable of doing the job. And I might ask you to put in a few hours a week on the shop-floor, if you'd be okay with that, just so you know the sorts of things we sell, our regular customer-base. It wouldn't be during the weekend; I know you kids have pretty hectic party schedules for the weekends!"

"If you n-needed me to c-come in, I wouldn't mind working," Lily said honestly, gazing at Kathryn earnestly, and Kathryn smiled.

"I'll keep that in mind. But if you were to come in, it'd be mid-week; Carole wanted Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons off so she can spend more time with her kids now school's over for the summer," Kathryn said, checking something on the wall. "So, you've already picked up some shifts at Empire Records." Checking Lily's application, where she had indicated other employment, she said, "So you've got…Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays?"

"In th-the afternoons," Lily said. "F-from one o'clock until six."

"Would you be willing to put in some mornings here?" Kathryn asked, making a note on Lily's application with her pen.

"Absolutely," Lily smiled.

"Okay. I'd let you off at noon, so you can grab some lunch," Kathryn nodded. "If you're putting in a whole day, I make sure to bring in takeout and _make_ you take a break for lunch, no matter how busy it is. And it's paid lunch, by the way. Usually we don't get the entire hour, so I like to compensate." Lily smiled.

"Is th-there a dress-code?" she asked.

"Not really," Kathryn shrugged. "Nothing shredded-up or…or tie-dyed! Closed-toe shoes are a must, I don't want any scissors dropping on bare toes. And if you're out on the shop-floor, I'll give you a linen apron for your waist, to keep scissors and twine in, in case you need to make up some posies. But if you're upstairs working on arrangements, just, anything you don't mind getting wet."

"H-how… Would you like m-me t-to stay on late if we're running out of t-time on p-putting t-together arrangements?" Lily asked; she had always found that offering to work overtime, instead of the employer having to ask, made a good impression. So did taking notes during an interview; as she was doing in her fuchsia leather journal, documenting both that she was having a job interview, and the details discussed, as much to help her remember at a later date, and to show any judge she might go in front of that she had already started looking for work in Newport.

"I'll try to let you go at closing-time," Kathryn said, with a sincere expression. "I know you're only fifteen, I don't want Sandy Cohen coming at me for child-labour! But sometimes the situation will be that we need all hands on deck to finish by the deadline. If that happens, I will pay overtime. Ah, and speaking of—wages! If you don't mind me asking, what was your pay like at your previous employment?"

"Um…the last florist I worked—at…p-paid fifteen dollars an hour," Lily said. "B-before that, thirteen…and t-ten."

"Okay, well, I'll pay you thirty dollars an hour," Kathryn said, and Lily's eyes popped; Kathryn chuckled. In a hushed voice, Kathryn said, "A lot of my clients go to those fundraisers at the club. Weekly deliveries of fresh flowers to fill the rooms they don't even go into; seventy-dollar bouquets for their hostess; their husbands come in and drop a hundred and fifty dollars on apology-gifts and flowers. And that's not even starting on what I get to charge for events. And we all know that making up arrangements is very manual labour-intensive work!"

"Wow," Lily said, half-laughing, and Kathryn smiled.

"So, thirty dollars an hour, and I'll pay _you_ in cash," Kathryn said. "If you're working on the shop-floor, I'll give you a time-card so I can pay you in cheque, just for my accountant."

"I understand," Lily nodded. Neither of them had to declare it, that way. She didn't have to say where she got the money, and Kathryn could claim the cash was just used on expenses. "I…d-do accounting, too."

"There's quite a few mentions of that, yeah," Kathryn smiled, checking Lily's résumé. "Well, whoever put you in that college course had the right idea! Let me just ask you something, for insurance purposes; how are your grades?"

"I…was on the—P-p-Principal's List," Lily smiled proudly. "Since fourth-grade." She pulled a copy of last year's school transcript out of her backpack, handing it to Kathryn, who swept her eyes over it, and raised her eyebrows. "This is… I j-just g-got this in th-the mail. It's from this year."

"Wow, this is a loaded schedule!"

"I like t-to… I liked t-to m-make my t-time at school worthwhile," Lily said, glancing at Kathryn.

"You're preparing for college," Kathryn remarked, eyeing her transcript. "Wow, AP Chemistry, AP Trigonometry, French 4, Spanish 4, AP English Lit, 20th Century History, Politics & Economics… So, you're…nearly sixteen. Do you have your license?"

"I… I do. I j-just got it, l-last month. B-but I don't…have a car. I ride my b-bicycle. I—I learned in a stick-shift," Lily said, and Kathryn smiled. Lily knew not many people—especially girls—learned how to drive in anything but an automatic, but Lily liked the old manual cars.

"Oh, good; so you'll be comfortable driving the van," Kathryn smiled. "I still haven't gotten Jasmine in the driver's seat! It would be worth my while to have you able to drive the delivery-van," Kathryn said, and went through Lily's résumé again, starting at something, which she circled with her pen.

"You're fluent in sign-language?" she asked, and Lily nodded. She would have forgotten to put it on her résumé had she not used it so recently, with Oscar, but she knew it was a unique talent. "I've had a deaf girl in here recently, her wedding's the first week of August, but I've had to communicate via emails, or her mother translates, but it would be _great_ if you could meet with her one afternoon." She picked up Lily's folder of photographs. "You know what you're talking about; it would be wonderful for there to be no intermediary, she can just say what she wants without interference. I think the mom's a bit, uh…well, living vicariously through her daughter's wedding. _She_ has a very specific idea of what _she_ wants."

"Oh dear," Lily said, and Kathryn gave her a look.

"So, I think that's everything. We've discussed pay, insurance for deliveries, dress-code… If you don't mind, I'd like to follow up on your references from the florists you worked at before," Kathryn said, and Lily nodded, accepting her file of photographs back. "We've already got the flowers for this week's events sorted, so I'll call you…Sunday afternoon? After everything's died down. To discuss what I've got going next week, and we can figure out when I'd like you to come in. If that's okay with you?"

"That's perfect," Lily nodded. "Just let me know."

"I'll contact you at the Cohen house," Kathryn said, smiling. "Oh—one more thing; if I take you with me to wedding expos to help out, I'll pay you cash-in-hand for the day. And, if you bring your bicycle every day, I might sometimes ask you to ride down to the pier or the _Crab Shack_ to pick up our lunch orders, especially if we're busy on the shop-floor."

"Good th-thing I have a basket on my b-bike," Lily said, and Kathryn laughed.

"Excellent! Well, I am gonna let you go, because I have to get to a meeting with a winter bride," Kathryn said, rolling her eyes slightly as she smiled. "She's not getting married until February. Ten-to-one odds she wants red roses."

"At least she d-doesn't want t-tulips close t-to Mother's Day," Lily said, and Kathryn chuckled softly.

"Amen," she laughed. "Well, thank you, Lily. I hadn't even put up a notice for help-wanted and I've found my girl!" Lily flushed, pleased.

"I…d-didn't expect t-to meet you t-today," she said, smoothing her t-shirt. "I th-thought I'd hand in my resume and hope something c-came of it."

"Don't ask, don't get, is what my daddy used to say," Kathryn smiled. "No, I'm glad you put yourself forward. So have you got everything? Photos…here's your school transcript, and…I'll keep these. Okay!" Kathryn smiled, standing up, putting Lily's résumé and application in a sleek brown-leather file-folder, and she grabbed her Blackberry, a set of keys and a brushed metal water-bottle, and Lily put her things in her backpack.

"D-do you mind if I l-look round the shop?" Lily asked.

"Oh, no, go ahead! Familiarise yourself with the inventory," Kathryn smiled. As they entered the main shop, Kathryn said goodbye, and darted out of the shop; Lily remained behind, navigating the other customers, taking in the displays. There were custom-decorated thong-sandals; displays of a few pairs of beige, fuchsia and black crochet TOMs; glossy handmade shaker-boxes; sparkling, seed-beaded shawls; a display of _Fresh_ cosmetics; a selection of organic fig, honey, almond and lavender hand-creams, soaps, sugar scrubs and moisturisers; a display of very pretty _Essie_ nail-polish colours; diamond-weave baskets filled with picnic supplies; recycled-paper envelopes filled with seeds, printed with a dainty typeface; there were bags, lamps, vases, scented _Diptyque_ candles; baskets of cute stamps; packets of little muslin bags; an impressive array of handmade invitations, Thank You notes, birthday cards and gift-tags; collections of recipe books, lifestyle guides and books dedicated to interior-decorating, dessert spreads and food-photography; mason-jars with tiny posies were scattered around the surfaces alongside mini potted orchids; a potting-bench was dedicated to all things gardening; there were displays of flowers-in-a-can, a section dedicated to a few prettily-coloured scrapbooking papers, punches, stamps, embellishments and stickers, and, in the far corner, a very tall cabinet entirely of glass featured a small lock, illuminating the contents within, displays of freshwater-pearl necklaces, the finest gold and silver jewellery, _tiny_ little charms, lovely bracelets, and Lily recognised some of the charms, the woven, beaded bracelets, as _Dogeared_ creations. In another corner, Lily found the sweetest display of tiny little, exquisite shoes; the little boxes called them _Joy Folie_, and they were handmade little girls' shoes. There was a vase filled with pretty paper parasols, next to a very short clothing-rack from which very pretty dresses in 1950s circle-skirt and 1960s pencil styles hung in different fabrics, as well as a handful of handmade boleros and capes, a shelf displaying a selection of dainty little hats, fascinators and a little shaker-box filled with jewelled hair-accessories.

"Hey!" Lily jumped, almost dropping the monogrammed Chinoiserie-patterned teacup she had been examining. Seth bobbed into view.

"Hi," she said, setting the teacup down.

"Hey, I closed up the store for an hour," Seth said, grinning. "You wanna go hit The Crab Shack for some lunch?" How he had managed it, Lily didn't know, because Seth had the self-professed "upper-body strength of an eight-year-old girl", but he had carried her bicycle downstairs from _Centurion_'s back room. Tossing his skateboard down, he coasted the way toward The Crab Shack, a beachside lobster-cooker that was one of Seth's favourite places to eat.

Usually he went alone.

"Wanna sit outside?" Seth asked, and Lily nodded. It was brilliantly hot, bright, and she felt utterly relaxed for the first time in…memory, as she sat down at one of the outdoor tables with Seth, accepting a menu from the waiter assigned to their table; he took their drinks orders and left Seth to extol the virtues of different choices on the menu.

Looking out over the beach—which spread just the other side of the concrete path where her bicycle was locked up—she licked her lips and let her bare legs—she had worn her little shorts, and the baggy, diaphanous white v-neck t-shirt she had had forever, and was softer than a baby-blanket—tan in the sun. When the waiter returned with mason jars filled with soda for Seth and a raspberry-peach iced-tea for Lily, he took their food orders—sand-dabs for Seth, and English-style 'fish and chips' for Lily, and Lily couldn't help thinking what Ryan was being served in the juvi dining-hall right about now.

"You thinking about him?" Seth asked, and Lily glanced up, smiling wanly.

"Yeah," she admitted on a sigh.

"I'm sure he's doing okay," Seth said, though even he didn't sound convinced of his own words. He was saying them to comfort her, and Lily appreciated it. She sighed.

"I don't think he is," she said hoarsely.

"I know you m-must think he's…incredibly _tough_, b-b-but Ryan isn't…he's n-not really a tough guy. Even our older b-b-brother Trey never really served significant time b-before now."

"He's smart though," Seth reminded her. "I've seen enough episodes of _Criminal Minds_ to know it's the smart ones who survive." Lily sat up a little straighter, glancing at Seth.

"You like _Criminal_ _Minds_?" she asked.

"Like it? I have all of the series on DVD box-set," Seth grinned. "You watch it?"

"I watch it when I can. It's not Ssss-sp-Spencer's fault—he just _is_ that way," Lily sighed, smiling. "He's adorable. And he g-gets sexier the more c-confident he g-gets as the series p-p-progresses." Seth grinned, chuckling, and they talked about their favourite episodes—and their mutual favourite character; Dr Diana Reid, the sarcastic paranoid-schizophrenic.

"You know, I _really_ w-want to read the things Ssss-Spencer's mom taught," Lily said. "You know, fifteenth-century literature."

"_Really_?" Seth said, raising his eyebrows incredulously. Lily shrugged.

"My old English t-teacher gave me a copy of _The Prince_ by Niccolò M-m-Machiavelli, and I just…I liked it," she confessed. She loved Edmund Spencer's _The Faerie Queene_, and had read Thomas More's _Utopia_. She adored John Donne's poem _The Good Morrow_ and if she could have travelled around England, she would have asked to see _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ in Stratford-Upon-Avon.

"You've read…_Machiavelli_?" Seth blurted, staring at her, and Lily shrugged, squeezing the chunk of lemon over her battered cod. "I've only read Chaucer."

"I liked _The C-c-Canterbury T-tales_," Lily said, licking the lemon-juice from her fingers.

"Does Ryan like early-Renaissance literature?" Seth asked, and Lily snorted gently. Seth grinned. "I'll take that as a 'no'."

"Th-that's a big 'no'," Lily smiled. She and Ryan were both smart—but Lily was more so. They hadn't tested her IQ or anything, but Ryan was certain she could score into the 'genius' category. The biggest difference between Lily and her brother was her desire to do something with her intelligence.

Thinking about Ryan again, for a few minutes she and Seth ate in silence; a group of burly-looking boys in board-shorts guffawed and talked loudly amongst themselves as they strode into the restaurant forecourt as if they owned the place; several of them purposely bumped into Seth, smacking him in the back of the head, and Lily frowned at the boys as they caught sight of her, exchanging bemused glances. When they were shown inside to a table, Seth glanced at Lily, hastily avoiding eye-contact when he noticed Lily was frowning at him.

"Friends of yours?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," Seth said sardonically. He sighed heavily, glancing over his shoulder through the window into the restaurant. "We go to school together."

"D-do they always treat you like that?" Seth shrugged, and Lily glanced over her shoulder into the restaurant, where the boys were being loud and trying to chat up one of the waitresses. She wondered what it was about Seth that they didn't like. He was smart, very funny, had a lot of varied hobbies and talents, and was kind.

Seth refused to let Lily pay for her lunch, and they rode back to the plaza. Passing by _Empire_, they heard Brock's heavy-metal, cut off by the siren-wail and replaced by _Florence + The Machine_, and Lily would have missed someone calling her name from within the music-store if the voice hadn't been so deep.

"Lil!" She glanced over her shoulder, Seth almost pitching headfirst into a flowerbed when he forgot to stop skating, looking back at her, and stopped when she saw Garrett darting out of _Empire_. "Hey!"

"Hi," Lily said, smiling.

"I'm glad I saw you!" Garrett grinned. "I've been trying to get you at Kirsten and Sandy's. Guess you're hanging out with Seth today." Lily glanced back at Seth, who was pouting and looking at a graze on his knee from falling off his skateboard.

"Uh…yeah," she said, and Garrett chuckled, waving at Seth. Addressing her, Garrett said, "So, look, Liz is doing…I don't know, but we need someone to cover the nine-'til-six shift tomorrow. You interested?"

"A full day?" Lily said. "Yes!"

"Cool. I've got a sailing lesson to give, so I won't be in 'til eleven," Garrett said, "otherwise I'd offer you a lift."

"Th-thanks, b-but I've…got m-my—bike," Lily said, blushing shyly.

"Okay, well, I'll go tell Joe," Garrett grinned. "See you tomorrow! Bye, Seth."

"So it looks like things are starting to work out for you," Seth said, smiling, as Lily carried her bicycle upstairs. "How'd your interview go?"

"I d-didn't realise the owner would b-be there," Lily said quietly. "It went…well, I think. She's g-going t-to call me on…Sunday, t-to help with her events n-next week."

"Well, cool," Seth said. "That means we can hang out some more this week. Except tomorrow. And Thursday and Friday afternoon."

After watching the day's instalment of _Telenovela_, selling some action-figure collectibles, a full-length cut-out of Katniss Everdeen, a copy of _The Dark Knight Returns_ and several new instalments of _Batman_, _Superman_ and _The_ _Avengers_, Lily helped Seth tidy up the shop, carried her bike out onto the gallery, and winced when Seth tripped up dashing across the shop after setting the alarm. Limping, Seth locked up, and they made their way downstairs.

Back at the Cohen mansion, Mr Cohen had returned from work but Mrs Cohen was still at the office, held up by the model-home fire and everything she had to do concerning it, and when Mrs Cohen called the house and said she would be late home, Mr Cohen decided they should go out to eat instead of ordering in. Lily thought it might have been as much about trying to get Seth to stop hating him that Mr Cohen let Seth choose the restaurant, as much as not wanting to eat in the quiet house.

Seth was sweet to Lily, but sitting in an Italian restaurant balcony overlooking the wharf and feasting on warm spinach-and-mushroom dip, toasted bread and plain pizza dough, a bowl of fried mozzarella and another of fat feta-stuffed olives, he was surly to his dad. Still angry with him for deferring Lily and Ryan to Child Services, Seth was behaving moodily, even though they had left the comic-book store with him in such a good mood.

"So, Lily, how was your day?" Mr Cohen asked, when the waiter took their orders, and Lily glanced up from Seth, who was attempting to feed himself a wedge of pizza-dough dripping in the creamy spinach and mushroom dip, contorting almost painfully.

"It was okay," Lily said, licking her lips. "I think I g-got a job working at _Posie_."

"Really?"

"T-to help put t-together arrangements for events," Lily said, nodding. "Kathryn said she's g-going to p-pay me thirty d-dollars an hour in cash."

"That's great," he said, grinning approvingly. He glanced at Seth. "Is that the place I buy your mother flowers from?" Seth nodded. Mr Cohen caught Lily's eye and grinned. "Flowers from there _always_ soothe Kirsten after an argument."

"Unless you've screwed up so bad you have to buy her jewellery," Seth reminded him, slurping the last of his soda with his straw, and Lily smiled at Mr Cohen's expression.

"I _never_ screw up so bad I have to buy your mom jewellery to forgive me!" Mr Cohen said, looking highly affronted, and Seth scoffed gently, quirking a sardonic eyebrow at his dad. "Okay, maybe a few times." Mr Cohen caught Lily's eye and smiled. "Kirsten's never forgiven me for putting her through labour." He glanced at Seth, raising his eyebrows at Seth's contortionist display. "I bought the most jewellery for Kirsten when Seth was a baby."

"I wasn't that bad," Seth blurted, staring at his father.

"I don't know, I remember one time when you—"

"Okay, you don't need to tell baby-stories in front of Lily," Seth said quickly, glancing at Lily, and she couldn't help smile as Mr Cohen laughed, Seth blushing adorably.

Seth's mood improved exponentially as he filled his stomach, the same way Ryan got less grumpy when he'd had something to eat. By the end of the meal, Mr Cohen was teasing Lily and Seth, and Seth was laughing and teasing him back while Lily blushed and found herself laughing in amusement.

Making them promise not to tell Mrs Cohen, Mr Cohen took them to Meadowlark Dairy—a drive-thru dairy where ice-cream cones piled high with easily six-inches of frozen-yoghurt were sold for $1.50 each, in chocolate, vanilla, strawberry or a swirled combination of either. Lily had never been to a drive-thru dairy before and the ice-cream was delicious after a heavy Italian dinner; the only blotch on the evening was sitting with Seth in the den, unable to play on the _PlayStation_ because he had been grounded from video-games for assisting a fugitive, and his grounding only served to remind them of Ryan's absence.

"So whaddaya wanna do?" Seth grumbled, sprawled on the sofa in the den, the television-screen blank and goading; Lily sat curled up on the sofa beside him, a bag of fat marshmallows between them, and they both picked at the sweets, trying to think of something to do that didn't involve movies, video-games, music or leaving the house. Though Lily hadn't been grounded alongside Seth, she stuck with him in his despair, emotionally supporting him through his hardship, showing solidarity in the face of his parents.

"You p-p-promised me you'd t-teach me how to p-p-play _Jenga_," Lily reminded him, and Seth glanced at her, then darted from the sofa, returning with a blue cardboard box; he carefully upturned it on the coffee-table, unveiling a tower of blocks. As Seth explained, _Jenga_ was like building-blocks for adults—or at least, teenagers who weren't allowed to do anything else. Lily suspected Seth enjoyed the game no matter whether he was grounded or not. In his casual clothing, Mr Cohen joined them in the den, snacking on marshmallows and alternately pelting his son with them when the _Jenga_ tower collapsed on Seth's turn.

* * *

**A.N.**: Please review!


	14. Sprung

**A.N.**: I'm just getting back into The O.C. after getting back into Gossip Girl, and because I want to write a fanfic for GG, I got back into Lilium, and that meant I perused my _Pinterest_ boards for the stories—'Lilium Inter Spinas' and 'Blue Blood' on my account. So please check out both stories, and also my Hobbit story 'Nobility is Not a Birth-Right'.

* * *

**Lilium Inter Spinas**

_13_

Sprung

* * *

With an early court-date, they didn't see Mr Cohen before they left for work; Seth was opening up the comic-book store again, while Lily made her way over to _Empire_ with her nametag and her bicycle, storing it behind Garrett's art 'studio' in the lounge, punching her time-card, and putting on a pot of coffee.

The first choice of music on the stereo went to whoever had the _M&M_ matching the one Sam plucked from the tub behind the counter. Convinced it was rigged, because Brock got his choice, Sam's complaining could be heard even over the death-metal. Lily went through the CD racks, putting things back in proper alphabetical order, grimacing over _Twilight_ soundtracks, anything Miley, Minaj, Jonas or Beiber, each of which were arranged in a bookcase, beneath a corkboard decorated with black paper, a 'frame' painted elaborately onto the wall surrounding it, with a ton of _Polaroid_ pictures, each featuring embossed labels with names spelled out. Above the illusory frame surrounding the black corkboard (decorated with silver marker, with a lot of snarky comments) was painted, in a neat, elegant script, '_Wall of Shame_'.

Maia appeared, bearing trays of canapés, sandwiches and desserts from a party she had bartended for the night before; she stashed them in the kitchen before bringing out the cake-tin lid filled with cups of sugar with a splash of coffee and milk; Joe vetoed Brock's choice of music, instead putting on some _Zeppelin_, and while Lily rang up the first sale of the day, he signed for a huge delivery.

"Rhett's on inventory when he gets here," Joe called. "I've got a meeting 'til noon. Maia, go get a dozen, put 'em in the fridge 'til Rhett gets here. You know he'll pout if he doesn't get one. There's a ten-spot on the refrigerator. Hey, Lily. Thanks for coming in today, covering for Liz."

"You're welcome," Lily smiled, glad of the chance to make even just one day's extra pay. She had calculated that even if Kathryn only asked her to do six or seven hours' work a week, she would still earn a little over two-hundred dollars. In two weeks, she could get enough casual-work to pay rent for a month. But given Kathryn had said she took on two or three projects per week, most of which were large-scale and incredibly beautiful, time-consuming arrangements and bouquets, Lily was sure (but wouldn't put all her eggs in the same basket hoping) that she would get more than six or seven hours of work a week.

But she couldn't put all her eggs in one basket, and she needed to make sure she had at least one source of income, no matter if it was part-time. Working at _Empire_ hadn't actually felt like _work_ on Monday, atmosphere-wise.

"Hey, make sure they don't kill each other," Joe said, indicating Sam and Brock as Maia hopped over them, wrestling on the floor between the Indie section and Garrett's vinyl display. "You're in charge, alright. That means, you have my permission to use any and all methods and machinery to maintain order. Fire-hoses, light-sabers, water-pistols, machetes; make them sit on the naughty-step if they sass-mouth you."

"Okay," Lily laughed softly, glancing at the boys.

"Any requests?" Maia asked her, pausing at the counter.

"F-for what?" Lily asked.

"Donuts," Maia beamed. "Any favourites?"

"Get her one of the _good_ ones," Joe said, grinning, and Maia grinned conspiratorially.

"I'll just get a box of 'em," Maia grinned.

"Boys! Behave for Lily!" Joe shouted, and he and Maia both stalked out of the store. Neither Brock nor Sam paid Joe's warning any heed, and they continued to play-fight until they had alienated one potential customer, made another two laugh hysterically at their juvenile threats and judo-jabs, and Lily had to straighten up the shop-floor, tend the cash-register and manually search for several different albums. When there was a lull, she looked through the different areas of the store, familiarising herself with where particular bands lived. She had to restock the poster display, straightening out the t-shirts on their clothing-rack, and put the headphones back on their cradle at the listening booths.

Maia returned, concealing a cardboard box in the kitchen before coming to man the second cash-register, the number of customers coming through increasing as the hour got closer to noon. Lily tried to keep her mind off Ryan. Any time she wavered, she couldn't help thinking that Ryan was…in danger. Being hurt. She knew what juvi was like; the only upside to their upbringing was that Ryan was probably well equipped to handle anything he was put through while he was there.

Thirty to sixty days. That shattered any hope Lily had had of Ryan getting a summer-job to help out with the bills before he went back to school. It put her in an awkward position with the Cohen family, Seth wanting Ryan to come home, Lily not being so naïve as to think they would allow total strangers to move into their home, but she hadn't spoken with Mr Cohen about her emancipation since their initial conversation, and she suspected Mr Cohen wanted to keep it that way, the longer he could justify having her in his home, where he and Mrs Cohen could keep an eye on her.

While she found that extremely…novel, rarely having before been regarded as a teenager, let alone a teenaged _girl_, a teenaged girl morally too young to live by herself, already too _old_, too young to be financially responsible, working too hard, not going to school. She couldn't deny that it put her in an awkward limbo, with the Cohen family. She wanted—_needed_—to leave their house, to start putting down roots and putting her plan into motion. But she would feel guilty leaving their house when they had been so kind in allowing her to stay, and with all the trouble Ryan had inadvertently caused them, not just with the model-home, but with Seth, and the cost of hiring an investigator to find Dawn.

She had come home to the Cohen mansion yesterday to find that someone had moved all of the shopping-bags Mrs Cohen had filled with things for Lily, into the guest bedroom Mrs Cohen had moved her into. The bags there, Lily's things scattered around the room, it had made things seem…_permanent_. And Lily wasn't sure she wanted that. Not at the expense of someone else's family, not when she had her own plan figured out and already set in motion. Not when she was finally…

Finally free.

She hadn't realised how liberating being in Newport Beach was. But it was the _freest_ Lily had felt in ages. She felt lighter, somehow; a huge weight was lifting off her chest, letting her breathe a little easier. Perhaps it was the sun, the way it sparkled off the frothing waves of the ocean, that made her feel _happier_, less depressed, more…hopeful. Like the colour yellow, the perpetual blistering sunshine here, on the coast, on the edge of the world, was like balm.

She felt better here. Talking to Garrett the other night, she had felt the best she had felt in…years. Connection. That was the only way she could describe what she had felt. She had found a kindred spirit, someone who understood without her opening her mouth what she wanted to communicate, and didn't care that when she did open her mouth…she couldn't really communicate eloquently at all.

Garrett had ignored that part of her, the way nobody else in the world ever had.

When he appeared, he was wearing a grey t-shirt printed with '_Everything Gets Better With Barbecue_' in different fonts, there were two small pendants dangling from a silver chain around his neck, his hair was damp and neatly combed, and his dark jeans were belted at the hip with brown leather the way Lily liked. She hated boys who wore their jeans down by their knees. Aside from the practical disadvantages of impeding a quick getaway, they just looked wrong. But Garrett… He looked, if possible, more tanned than he had yesterday. His blue eyes glowed a rich sapphire as he grinned, tugging off those gold-framed 'Aviator Tech' _Ray Bans_ he had, slinging his nametag around his neck and slapping Maia's palm as he strode past the cash-registers into the lounge.

"Someone's in a good mood," Maia said, watching Garrett disappear with raised eyebrows.

"At least t-'til I t-tell him he's on inventory," Lily said, and Maia chuckled. Suddenly, Garrett burst back through the swinging doors.

"You bought some!" he grinned, and his voice was so deep they could hear him easily even over _The Kinks_—Lily's choice. "You had your breaks yet?"

"No, I thought we could lock the door for fifteen minutes," Maia grinned, and Garrett strode the length of the shop to shut the double-doors, lock them, and stick the sign Maia hastily scrawled with a Sharpie on the back of a concert flier to the glass.

"Come on, Lil," Garrett grinned, reaching over the counter to take hold of her hand, giving her no choice but to climb off the raised dais, following him back beyond the swinging-doors. Brock busy in the kitchen, he soon appeared bearing a tray laden with coffee-cups, and the box Maia had returned with earlier sat open on the licence-plate coffee-table. Inside were six doughnuts, scored almost in half, and stuffed with whole strawberries, the whole thing finished off with a glaze.

"Wow," Lily said, sinking into an armchair as Maia handed her a napkin.

"Yeah," Garrett grinned. He had his incredibly expensive camera out, ready, and Lily understood why when the doughnuts (sans Joe's) were handed around. They were impossible to eat delicately, and Garrett got more than a few photographs of Lily trying to lick glaze from her cheek where she had smeared it, grinning at him as she tried to take a bite out of the strawberries and doughnut, and resorting finally to eating the strawberries one by one, until the strawberries were no longer falling out of the doughnut, and she smiled as she licked her fingers and polished off the last of the doughnut.

Garrett's smile lasted longer than being told he was on inventory; taking a pair of duck-egg blue headphones tatty with old stickers and a black iPod, he disappeared upstairs with a clipboard of invoices and a scanner.

Lily's turn to make the coffees, she went in search of Garrett while Brock and Sam argued over veto rights, and found him in the large back inventory-room behind the red listening-booths on the mezzanine. Sitting cross legged, surrounded by opened cardboard boxes and stacks of CDs, she could hear him humming softly as he scanned a CD barcode and clicked something on a laptop. When he caught sight of her, he jumped, and Lily laughed as he tugged his headphones off.

"You scared the hell outta me!" he chuckled deeply, flashing a grin.

"Sorry," she apologised, indicating the coffee she had brought up for him. "How's it going in here?"

"Good," Garrett smiled, stashing the CD he had just scanned on a pile. "I'm about a third of the way through."

"What's the system?" Lily asked, gazing around at the purposeful chaos.

"These are the ones I've scanned," Garrett said, indicating several piles clustered together. "These need scanning," he added, indicating several boxes. Indicating a very tall column of CDs and a few vinyls, he added with a guilty glance at her, "And these are the ones I need to buy."

"This job must cost you a fortune," Lily remarked, eyeing the pile of To-Buy music. Garrett chuckled warmly. Scanning for somewhere to put Garrett's coffee, she sighed, yawning, and sank down cross-legged on the floor by him, handing him his coffee.

"Thanks," Garrett smiled subtly, sipping his coffee when she passed it to him, and he hummed and nodded, licking his lips. "That's good… You doing okay?"

Lily glanced at him. "I'm fine."

"You're a shitty liar," Garrett said, setting his coffee down. Lily sighed. She had had a lot of time to think about things, today, yesterday… Only a little while ago, it had finally hit her.

"Three-fifths of my family is in jail," she said, and Garrett gave her a thoughtful look. "My mother abandoned us… I'm homeless." She sighed, and then laughed, unable to help it. She supposed laughing at her situation was better than her heart breaking. "I am officially poor white trash." Garrett looked up sharply, his deep blue eyes surprisingly stern as he gazed at her.

"You're not trash," he said evenly. Had Garrett been around Lily all her life, witnessing Dawn's rants when she was drunk…he would have thought of her the way everybody else who saw those angry lectures did. That she was a worthless layabout who couldn't keep her knees together. It was a consistent state of being in their home that Lily was made to feel like she was worthless, ungrateful. Trash. Garrett set down the scanner, and indicated her to come sit by him. "C'mere." Lily shuffled closer, and Garrett linked one tanned, toned arm around her, drawing her closer still, until she had to wrap her arms around his torso for comfort, and he rested his chin on her head, rubbing her back with one large, warm hand. For a little while, they just stayed like that. Lily could have let him hug her for eternity; and the Atwoods weren't huggers.

"You give good hug," she murmured, and Garrett's deep chuckle reverberated through his chest.

"You'll figure things out, Lil," he promised, and Lily sighed softly, withdrawing from his embrace, feeling better for it. "So…have you heard anything?"

"Without a parent or guardian, Ryan won't be released for thirty t-to sixty days," Lily said quietly. Garrett's face fell, his eyes widening.

"Shit," he swore, looking stunned. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Lily said softly.

"You haven't seen him?" Garrett asked gently. Lily looked down at the floor, shaking her head.

"I can't."

"Why not?" Garrett asked gently. Lily licked her lips, fiddling with an album by _The Dead Kennedys_.

"After all th-the things…D-d-Dawn's done…her leaving… I expect th-that from her," Lily said, glancing up at Garrett. "I forgive her f-for it b-because…it's n-not the worst th-thing she's done." Garrett gazed at her thoughtfully, frowning.

"And you can't forgive Ryan, because he's the only person who never gave up on you," he deduced, and Lily nodded after a little bit of thought. He had let her down; he had _abandoned_ her. Instead of putting his faith in her, he had run away.

"I c-can't g-go see him in th-that p-place," she stammered, upset. But despite the emotion choking her throat and burning her eyes, she kept talking. "I c-can't g-go there and c-confirm m-my suspicions th-that he's in th-that _p-p-place_ and he's b-b-being _hurt_. I've seen…t-too much of th-that."

For a little while, Garrett remained silent. She wouldn't know what to say either. She and Ryan had been abused all their lives—if not by Dawn's boyfriends, then by Trey. Before that, by their dad whenever he'd been drinking. She wanted—she _needed_ a clean break from all of that. Part of living by herself was ensuring she never had to look in the mirror and see bruises flourishing. At least here, she suspected the Cohens would notice.

But Ryan was stuck in a place filled with boys like him; aggressive, even more so because they were without hope. Caged aggression, too; there was no getting away from it. She wasn't an idiot; she knew that as the new guy, Ryan would be targeted.

"He's smart enough to stay out of trouble," Garrett said quietly, glancing at her and perhaps guessing the focus of her thoughts.

"As b-bright as Ryan is, he j-just…d-does n-not like t-to think," Lily sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. He would let his judgement slide in the face of a slight or someone picking on another kid in front of him, and he would run headfirst with his fists flying.

"I tell you what… You decide you want to go see him, and I'll give you a ride. Strength in numbers…" He glanced at her. "Besides, I wouldn't want you going there by yourself. You'd whip the place into a rebellion." Blushing, Lily couldn't help smiling. "See, there's a smile. What do you say?" She nodded.

"Okay," she said softly. She had a feeling she wouldn't be able to get to juvi without help. To see Ryan, her _good_ brother, caged up like an animal, when the fire had been accidental, not _his_ fault, the fault of the spoiled, entitled Newport boy with aggression issues… He'd spent the night in juvi. One night; Ryan would be lucky if he got out of juvi in under a month.

"So, um… Maia's doing a big quiche Lorraine for lunch," Lily said; she'd never worked in a place, besides the diner, where a full meal was cooked on the premises for the staff. Sam said that was mostly Maia; she loved to cook. But a fresh quiche, with homemade pastry, using crème fraîche to make it light, with a big salad, that was luxury. All they had to do was give Maia two dollars for ingredients, and a fresh, home-cooked lunch was spread out on the coffee-table. When Joe had returned, they locked the front-doors and had lunch together, Sasha trailing in drenched from surfing. Joe almost choked on his quiche when Sasha stripped off and shuffled into the bathroom, where they soon heard the shower running.

"I didn't need to see that," Joe grimaced, eyeing his food, and Lily laughed as Maia darted into the bathroom to steal the towels and Sam went to turn the kitchen faucet on. There were numerous dangers in working at _Empire_, not least of which was Sam in a sugar-rush.

Standing at the cash-registers, Lily had brought her very old, very much loved deck of cards, so worn they felt silky to touch, and she and Garrett played, using _M&M_s and pretzels as currency. Sam approached, clapping Garrett on the back.

"Hey, man, you got plans tonight?"

"Sam, are you asking me out on a date?"

"Don't flatter yourself! No, I'm just wondering, since you're not working tonight," Sam said.

"No, I've got family dinner at the club," Garrett sighed heavily, as if resigned. Sam scoffed.

"Since when do you start spending time with your hoity-toity fancy parents and your bratty sisters at the country-club?" he said, laughing.

"Well, since I'm trying to be a good boy," Garrett shrugged, which made Sam laugh harder, actually giggling as he took a customer's CDs, checking them over before handing them to Lily to ring through. Glancing at Garrett before she smiled at the customer who approached her with a CD, a vinyl record and a coupon, Lily couldn't help wondering why Garrett was 'trying' to be a good boy.

What constituted as a _bad_ boy in this town? Everyone who came into the store was slim and beautiful, with sun-highlighted hair and rich tans, smelling of exotic perfumes, the sun and the sea breeze. She had yet to see anyone in a wife-beater; the only people with visible tattoos were Joe and, on Monday, Liz. Given the temperature soared a consistent 107º Fahrenheit, leather jackets were a little superfluous.

She remembered Garrett saying he hadn't always made decisions that were good for him. Did being a 'bad-boy' have something to do with that? He'd said he partied hard, not like Luke Ward—a _real_ party-boy. What kind of trouble had he got into?

* * *

Thursday morning, Lily sat in Seth's bedroom, where she and Seth had cloistered themselves so Seth could resume Lily's education on Indie music and comic-books. Lily didn't like the Indie genre particularly; she thought it was too whiny. But she listened dutifully, and was making her way through _The Dark Knight Returns_. Last night, she had come home with Seth, him on his skateboard, her on her bike, and flicking through the channels, the only thing on TV that they could find was _The 13__th__ Warrior_.

It was bizarre that of all the delicious young actors emerging in Hollywood's A-list recently, Lily preferred the older, forty-something, tired Viking warriors. She made Seth giggle with just how much she loved the lead Viking, and though it was a bad movie, based on loose transcripts of early versions of the Beowulf legend, it passed the time, and ignited a lifelong commitment between Lily and _Thor_—which Seth made her watch after _The 13__th__ Warrior_ had ended. If Thor hadn't been so delicious, Lily would have found it difficult to stay awake. They had plans to watch the _Avengers_ movie tonight, if Mrs Cohen worked late, and Seth had brought out his entire collection of _Thor_ comic-books.

So Lily was now set the arduous task of reading through every single one while Mrs Cohen was otherwise occupied. Mr Cohen had granted them leniency last night on Seth's grounding, due to Lily, but only with regards to watching two movies, and having some sweet treats while they watched them, and only because Mrs Cohen had been working late at her office, trying to do damage-control with the fire.

When they had first met, sitting on his little catamaran on the calm ocean, arguing with his father over being forced to go to a white-collar party, Lily had gotten the sense that in as much as Seth was aware of his surroundings, and rejected them, he was rejected _by_ them, yet the lifestyle he was forced to live in wasn't necessarily something he wanted to be a part of. But sitting in his bedroom earlier, Lily had seen that amongst the furniture he must have had since childhood, there were posters of the _Sex Pistols_, the _Ramones_; books had been scattered around the room, piled on his floors; records had been stored in a cabinet by a vintage record-player; magazines ranging from _Time _to _Rolling Stones_ to _i-D_ and his collection of comic-books were scattered around the room, and on every surface of his room, every piece of furniture, every wall, there was evidence of his many, varied interests; posters papered the walls, stickers, movie ticket stubs were tacked to the wall with pay-cheques stubs, postcards, sketches and sailing maps. Though he didn't perhaps fit into the _Abercrombie_ _Corvette_-driving world of Newport Beach, Seth had a very rich inner life, and Lily thought he was probably a lot cooler than anybody else his age in the area.

The phone rang, and Lily glanced up from her journal; Seth abandoned his sketchbook to pick up the phone at the dock in his room, and Lily picked up the drawings as Seth grumbled on the phone to his mother.

Skimming through some of Seth's drawings, she smiled at a demon water-polo player, comic-book style renditions of a masked Captain Oats—Lily had been formally invited to Seth's bedroom last night to be decorously presented to the plastic horse, whom Seth told her had been his only friend since childhood. Apparently Captain Oats liked her, enough that Seth had had to muzzle him to stop trying to him hitting on Lily. She flicked a page and sat up straighter, propped up against Seth's pillows, staring at the drawings Seth had done—by the dates scribbled in the corners of the pages—within the last few days.

One showed Ryan, his likeness displayed in the character's scruffy hair and hoodie-and-leather-jacket combo. There were character studies, the comic version of Ryan drawn in profile, in different poses, including fighting. Seth had done a complete set of sketches on the next page, where the choker-wearing hooded character was approached by a demon water-polo player in a vest, behind him, a thin female character telling him, "_Don't_!" The demon water-polo player scoffed out, "_What're you, like, spokesperson for geeks of America or something?_" In the next frame, Ryan's character was grinning, his hands replaced by metallic doubles. In the background was a diner counter set out with vats of iced-tea and a big gumball machine. A bubble at the character's head read "_You know what I like about rich kids?_" The last frame showed the demon water-polo player in a flash of light being thrown backward into a table amid his friends and the pretty girl, while a little speech-bubble at the corner of the frame read "_Nothing_."

Seth hung up the phone and Lily glanced up. "Did you draw these?"

"Hm? Yeah," Seth said, and Lily stared at the drawings.

"These are _really_ good! Is th-this supposed to be Ryan?"

"Yup," Seth shrugged, his cheeks warming, and Lily smiled. She frowned at the girl in the sketches.

"And…th-this is supposed to be that M-M-Marissa Cooper girl?" she asked, and Seth nodded.

"Hey, um, so listen, I have to go pick up some stuff for my mom," Seth said grumpily, with an aggrieved sigh. "She'll confine me to house-arrest, only until she needs something. You wanna come with me?"

"Sure," Lily said, placing the sketchbook on Seth's bed; she followed him downstairs, outside, where Mrs Cohen's Range Rover sat in the driveway.

"How did your m-mother get to work today?" Lily asked.

"My dad dropped her off," Seth shrugged. "She's getting a car back later today for a Newpsie convention."

"Newpsie?"

"Bored, bitter housewives with too much money and free-time," Seth sighed. "They're coming over to plan this week's charity-fundraiser event. At least we'll get to eat the leftover pastries, which we have to go pick up now."

"When d-did you get your license?" Lily asked curiously, climbing into the passenger seat. Seth produced his iPod and connected it to the _Range Rover_'s stereo system, grinning at her when she quirked an eyebrow at the contraband iPod, and Seth answered, "Nearly a year ago. Dad taught me. For which I apologise, and should have given prior warning."

Seth drove them to an open, horseshoe-shaped plaza, most of the venues luxury cafés and restaurants, spas and salons. Seth shuffled his way to a bakery, outside which little tables with umbrellas were set out, and well-preserved women were chatting, drinking delicate cups of coffee and snacking on tiny, beautiful little desserts. The patisserie was aptly named '_Just Desserts_' and inside, the marble counter was arranged with the most sumptuous little desserts, tarts, muffins, cakes, petit-fours, pastries and cupcakes Lily had ever seen. There was even a little counter where hand-crafted chocolates, gourmet Brigadeiros and rich truffles were kept cool.

"Can I help you?" Seth approached the counter, asking for the order set aside for 'Cohen', and Lily examined the many beautiful little treats set out and kept cool behind the glass. The waitress brought out yet another delicate pink bakery box, and Lily helped Seth carry several of them, filled with treats, to Mrs Cohen's _Range Rover_. Seth handed over his mother's credit-card to pay for them, and because Mrs Cohen's order had been so large, the waitress gave them a little box filled with samples of the bakery's newest confections.

Driving back to the Cohens' house, Lily sat with the sample box in her lap, feeding Seth little treats whenever they stopped at the lights. Lily liked the almond baklava and the blueberry macarons. They split a mini Portuguese tart, and a mini rustic-looking cherry filo-pastry tart, and Seth hid the empty box in the garbage-can before helping Lily carry everything inside. Rosa, Mrs Cohen's housekeeper, had completely cleaned the sitting-room, kitchen and den in anticipation of Mrs Cohen having company, and the tables that backed up against the white sofas had been rearranged, in front of the patio-doors, with crisp, freshly-ironed linens. On one table, four identical jugs featuring different juices were arranged in the centre, with champagne flutes on one side, bottles of _Prosecco_ on the other, with three large, pristine white bowls in the front, bearing fresh peach slices, beautiful raspberries, and the sweetest, reddest strawberries Lily had ever seen. The second table was set out with more clean white crockery; savoury morsels were arranged on one side, and Lily helped arrange the treats she and Seth had picked up onto clean white platters.

Seth kept catching Lily's eye, grinning at their shared misdeed, sneaking indulgences while Seth was being punished, but when Mrs Cohen returned from work, Seth's features darkened into a glower and he stalked off, ignoring his mother's hello. Mrs Cohen came bearing several beautiful arrangements from _Posie_ to decorate her sitting-room. Perhaps she shouldn't have, but as Mrs Cohen said, she was under no illusions after they had returned from the party after the fashion-show, and she preferred that Seth learn to drink responsibly at home rather than potentially drowning after a few too many at a beach-party, and she showed Lily how to make a mimosa, giving her a taste; the first table was set up as a 'mimosa-bar', where her friends could make their own drinks. Dessert tables, and variations with cocktails, tea and crafts were very fashionable, as Lily remembered from stepping into _Posie_, where several books had featured dessert-tables.

"My father took my mom to Venice one year, when I was little," Mrs Cohen said, smiling sadly. "At a famous _Prosecco_ bar, they taught her how to make real Bellinis, using fresh peaches. They simply pressed a peach through a sieve, catching the juice in a jug, and added the _Prosecco_. I've always wanted to try it, but Sandy's afraid of my cooking."

"They were n-named after th-the painter, weren't they?" Lily asked.

"I think so," Mrs Cohen smiled. "The other Newpsies like to use real champagne for them, but I prefer _Prosecco_. A great bottle of _Prosecco_ is far more value for money than a bottle of champagne."

"Especially if you're making cocktails," Lily said, and Mrs Cohen smiled and nodded in agreement.

"So, do you have work today?" she asked.

"I start at one," Lily said, glancing at the clock.

"Well, I'll save you some treats," Mrs Cohen smiled. "I might have to hide them from Seth…" Lily smiled, and she heard footsteps; glancing around, Mr Cohen emerged, setting his briefcase down.

"Wow! You're all set up for your Newpsie convention!" he said, eyes wide as he gazed at the array of sweet treats. "Hey, when do these vultures land?"

"Soon," Mrs Cohen sighed, "and I'm sure that I have a doily out of place somewhere."

"Good," Mr Cohen declared. "Gives 'em something to talk about. I don't know why you have these women over. You don't like 'em." Mrs Cohen glanced at Lily before answering her husband guiltily.

"I don't, _don't_ like them; I grew up with these women," she said. "They're my oldest friends. Besides, it's for charity."

"Oh, what's on the agenda? What event are you dragging me to this week?" Mr Cohen asked, dread lacing his words.

"Casino Night," Mrs Cohen grimaced subtly.

"You know, this home-from-the-office housewife thing is…"

"Disturbing," Mrs Cohen supplied, taking out the last platter of treats out to the formal-room.

"Hot!" Mr Cohen chuckled, and Lily smiled. "It's disturbingly hot!" Mrs Cohen shot her husband a look as Seth sauntered back into the kitchen, ignoring her, bypassing Mr Cohen to get to the coffee-machine.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Mr Cohen asked, glancing from Seth to Lily.

"Nothing, I'm grounded," Seth reminded him curtly.

"Well, you're handling it well," Mr Cohen said. Glancing at Lily, Seth looked at his dad.

"You gonna see him today?"

"Ryan? No," Mr Cohen sighed, sipping his coffee. "There's nothing I can do for him right now."

"Yeah? You think he's okay?" Seth asked.

"Well, there's a reason I like to try to keep kids out of these places," Mr Cohen said heavily, and Lily focused on wiping down the counters and dismantling the cardboard cake boxes.

"You just, you can't get him out? You're just not a good enough lawyer?" Seth asked darkly.

"My hands are tied unless we find Mrs Atwood," Mr Cohen said, glancing at Lily, as if wanting to remind Seth she was there—which was probably the reason Seth had brought it up.

"So then _why_ can't he stay here?" Seth asked.

"I will not have this conversation again," Mrs Cohen said brusquely, striding into the room.

"Yeah, well, if anything happens to Ryan, it's all on you, so I just hope you can live with that," Seth said, and Lily shrank as she rinsed the dishcloth. Mrs Cohen took hold of an empty Prosecco bottle and glared at her son.

"What I can't live with is if something was to happen to you because of him," Mrs Cohen said fiercely.

"Like I meet someone who doesn't suck?" Seth retorted.

"We are not his parents!" Mrs Cohen exclaimed. "I am not his mother!"

"Good thing," Seth remarked curtly, striding out of the room again with his coffee.

"_Seth_!" Lily warned. Seth continued upstairs.

"Get back here! Apologise!" Mr Cohen called, then sighed. Mrs Cohen looked as if Seth's words had really struck home and _hurt_. Seth was saved an argument by the arrival of Mrs Cohen's guests. As Lily went to go and answer the door, she saw Mrs Cohen straighten her clothing, dust her fingertips through her hair, and sigh before straightening her shoulders, pasting a pretty smile on her face and striding out into the sitting-room.

The first to arrive was Mr and Mrs Cohen's neighbour, Julie Cooper. She was Mrs Cohen's complete opposite in a vibrant cocktail of silks and patterns, green eyes glowing against her flawless skin. She looked rather taken aback that Lily answered the door, but she invited herself over the threshold without a pause, ignoring Lily as if she was invisible; another of Mrs Cohen's guests, with a textured blonde bob, wearing a silvery-blue top and tight jeans, smiled at her as Mrs Cooper caught sight of Mr Cohen.

"Sandy, hi!" she said, kissing Mr Cohen's cheek. "How are you holding up? That _poor_ _boy_! He's locked up, yes?"

"Yeah, temporarily," Mr Cohen said.

"Well, nobody blames you for bringing him into the community," Mrs Cooper said, patting Mr Cohen's shoulder patronisingly. "You're so _trusting_, Sandy." Mr Cohen, staring, caught Lily's eye; Lily herself couldn't believe Mrs Cooper's attitude. Was she purposely ignoring or just ignorant of her daughter's part in the fire?

"Hey, Lily," he said, glancing back into the sitting-room as Mrs Cohen's friends seated themselves and accepted plates and little forks from Rosa without even looking at her. "You going to work?"

"Um—"

"Hi," said a deep voice, and Lily glanced around, smiling. Garrett stood on the doorstep. He grinned and shook Mr Cohen's hand in welcome. "I know you're working today. Want a lift?"

"Uh… What t-time d-do finish?" Lily asked.

"Well, I'm working 'til midnight—"

"Tell you what, you finish at six, right?" Mr Cohen said, glancing at Lily, who nodded. "How about I come by, pick you up after I finish work? I don't want you walking back by yourself."

"Okay," Lily smiled.

Mr Cohen turned to address his wife and her friends, and all of the well-preserved, meticulously groomed women who were dressed for fourteen despite having passed their fortieth turned to stare at their hostess' husband. "Well, I should be off. Gotta find the next kid to jeopardise the community. Maybe a black kid. Or an Asian kid." He shot them all a charming smile, irony dripping from it. "Bye, ladies!"

Garrett's deep laugh echoed on the still air, and Lily couldn't help smiling too as she waved goodbye to Mr Cohen, walking with Garrett down the drive to his truck.

"Oh, shit," Garrett swore, patting his pockets. "I forgot my wallet. Come with me a sec?" Indicating his driveway, Lily followed shyly. She had only seen the Coopers' house from the driveway, and the path down to the little lagoon; the double-doors were ajar, and as they entered the airy hall, they came across Marissa, dressed in a flimsy pink beach cover-up, chatting to a petite brunette girl—Summer, Lily remembered—both wearing huge designer sunglasses, expensive jewelled flip-flops, toting designer handbags and a bundle of towels and folding chairs.

"—come on, Coop! A little facial, mani-pedi! On me," Summer was smiling. "Maybe a massage, you can get rid of all that sexual-tension between you and Chino."

"Summer!" Marissa blurted, flushing red with embarrassment.

"Oh, come _on_. You left Luke at Holly's beach-house to go spend time with trailer-trash in an abandoned building," Summer remarked, laughing. "You're telling me you're not into him?" Marissa caught sight of them, her face falling as she gazed at Lily, who was scowling at Summer.

Something snapped. Lily strode up to Summer, plucking the sunglasses off her face, and pretended to examine them.

"Excuse me!" Summer blurted.

"I like these," Lily said, her stammer receding in her anger, still pretending to examine the sunglasses. "How much were they?"

"Three-fifty," Summer said casually, eyeing her embarrassedly, probably wondering whether Lily had heard what she had. Lily nodded. She guessed that meant three _hundred_ fifty dollars.

"Did your daddy buy them for you?" she asked, glancing at Summer.

"Yeah, _so_?" Lily nodded. Handing the sunglasses back, she loomed over Summer.

"The last two years, every pay-cheque I've had has gone to pay the mortgage on my mother's two-bedroom house," Lily said, staring her straight in the eye. "Groceries, bills, health-insurance, I pay it. You got drunk and threw yourself at my brother until you found out where he lived. You were cruel to Seth; you left your best-friend on her _driveway_ when she was passed out drunk. I have a very different concept of what being _trash_ means." Summer swallowed nervously, eyes wide. "Next time, be careful who you insult, because one day, when your husband leaves you for a younger woman and takes his money with him, you might have to come to me begging for a job."

"Hey," Marissa spoke up, giving Lily a look as if wondering how she dared talk to her friend that way. Lily gave Marissa her best and least-used glare. The one Theresa said could blister the paint off a barn-door. Looking slightly more repentant, Marissa sighed, "So is he okay?" Lily blinked.

"He's in _jail_," she snapped, impatient with these two spoiled girls. "What do you think?" Marissa flushed.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Luke's not talking to me," Marissa said, her eyes going wide and glassy, and Lily gave her a deadpan look. She couldn't care less what was going on in the world of Marissa Cooper. Being on the fringe of that orbit had almost killed her brother.

"Well, that makes me feel great. Ryan's in juvi, but you're biggest concern is that your thug boyfriend won't answer your phone-calls," Lily said coolly, eyes narrowed. "So I guess that means you haven't gone to see him."

Marissa's cheeks warmed, and she glanced from Lily to Summer, who was watching their exchange closely, her cheeks still warm from her brush with Lily. "Why…why would I go see him?

"Maybe to apologise for your boyfriend almost killing him," Lily said icily. Giving Marissa a long look, she added scornfully, "Over _you_."

"It's just… It's too complicated," Marissa said awkwardly, and Lily continued frowning at her, her ire rising. This girl, this silly little girl with her princess-pink beach cover-up and designer sunglasses, gossiping with her party-girl best-friend and burning money on expensive manicures and facials, thought too much of herself to even worry that Ryan might be suffering the delayed side-effects of smoke inhalation. She couldn't be bothered to feel guilty about someone who was in a lot of trouble because of her.

"Let me simplify it for you! I'll speak slowly so you can understand me. My brother is in _jail_ because of you!" Lily blurted, her anger causing her stammer to recede. There were few times when her temper rose badly enough that she had an outburst, but when she spoke up, people had a habit of listening. Marissa Cooper turned injured doe eyes onto her, her lips parting.

"You're blaming this on _me_?" she gasped.

"It was _your_ boyfriend who followed you to the model-home," Lily said icily, "after you left him at a party to see my brother. He _attacked_ Ryan because he thought you were cheating on him. Ryan could have _died_ in that fire."

"So you're saying the fire is my fault?" Marissa blurted, and she almost sounded choked up. Lily glared at her.

"I'm saying that your trouser fetish might have gotten my brother _killed_," she said fiercely, and she caught a glimmer of Garrett's smirk. "If you can't even be bothered to check to see if he's okay after nearly getting killed because of you, you're a waste of space, and he can and _has_ done much better." Garrett, who had been waiting at the archway into the living-room looking delightedly incredulous, was shaking with suppressed laughter, and as she stalked over to him, he let out a little giggle, tugged on the hem of her t-shirt, and strode down a corridor, to a ground-floor bedroom with a sliding glass door that opened onto a patio.

This was Garrett's room. And Lily could have entered another world, it was so completely different from the decorative style of the rest of the house, which was muted beiges, comfortable but impersonal. The walls of Garrett's room were painted red, with artwork stuck to the walls, painted on—Lily recognised the painted-frame on one wall as similar to the _Wall of Shame_ wall-feature at _Empire_—with gold paint, chalkboard paint, permanent markers, making a feature of his favourite vinyl sleeves, photographs and drawings. Glossy, iridescent red drums featured as bedside-tables, and eight framed vinyl record covers served as an artistic interpretation of a headboard, comfortable pillows and cushions mounded at the head of the bed, blankets thrown over the end, with a cushioned chaise at the end featuring stacks of novels, CDs, a camera and several rolls of film.

The double-doors to his closet were thrown open, and covered with black paint, on which messages, quotes, lyrics and memos were written, more artwork glued, and a collection of phone-numbers. Instead of clothing cubbies, the right-hand wall of the closet was dedicated to two white-shelved metal units, filled with vinyl records and trinkets; a starkly modern glass-topped desk contained an expensive-looking printer, scanner, and photograph enlarger. A shelf running around the top of the closet contained jumbles of clothes, DVD cases, a collection of bongs, even a hookah, photography equipment; under the desk, cardboard boxes were filled with recycled-card envelopes, and CDs. Garrett had bought them all in bulk. A lamp glowed on the end of the desk, illuminating the closet walls, which were covered with a collage, the tops of the walls above the shelf pasted with posters, vinyl sleeves, stickers and artwork. Little gadgets and machines were arranged and scattered on the surfaces; outside the closet, under one of the windows, was another desk, this one featuring Garrett's computer, which had an immense HD monitor, and she recognised a _Wacom_ tablet, though Garrett's was larger than the little silver one Seth had in his room.

Scattered around the room where two surfboards, stacks of magazines, DVDs, CD cases, a cabinet featured an impressive stereo, three-foot-tall speakers aimed toward the double-bed; stacks of CDs tumbled on the dresser, and several vinyls were piled on the deep window-ledge. The nearest bedside-cabinet featured an empty _Patrón_ bottle on which a selection of watches were organised, a _Polaroid_ camera, a _Hasselblad_ camera and a set of _Micron_ pens, a few books, a comic, an unopened condom and a joint. Set at an angle to the sliding doors out onto the patio were two black _West Elm_ spine bookcases, loaded with books, vinyls, DVDs, CDs and trinkets, rolls of film, something called a _Polaroid_ 'Po-Go' and a purplish-green succulent.

The personality in this room was staggering. And it could not have been clearer that Garrett was _very_ different from the rest of his family. He had put so much of himself onto his walls, into every aspect of this space, the artwork was stunning, sometimes incredibly personal, little snapshots of Garrett's life; she saw Sam in some pieces, Marissa in others, Mrs Cooper, even Seth. Lily had seen Garrett doodling at _Empire_, but until now hadn't realised that Garrett was an _artist_. His closet was cluttered with equipment for traditional film-photography, and Lily was surprised to see clear plastic tubs containing scrapbooking paper, washi tapes, stickers, brads, alongside pots of paintbrushes, expensive coloured pens, very fine-quality drawing pencils and a polished wooden case filled with paints, a few untouched canvases leaning against the wall.

"Wow," she said, unable to think of anything else to say, too staggered by the room to do much else but look. The one thing that really caught her attention, out of everything in the room, all the artwork, the photography equipment, the boxes full of CDs and the unfinished paintings, was tucked between the pillows on Garrett's bed. His duvet-cover and pillowcases were the softest grey t-shirt cotton, with a dark navy sheet, and a deep crimson knitted blanket over the foot of the bed. Tucked against the pillows was a _tiny_ little cream plush bunny.

"Who's this?" she asked, picking up the little bunny; it was so small it fit into her palms. Glancing at Garrett, he smiled, searching the contents of his desk.

"That's Ingrid," he said. Lily smiled. In the midst of all this _intense_ artwork, the vinyl record collection, the chunky photograph enlarger, the ultra-modern monitor, the three-foot speakers, here was a tiny little bunny. Named Ingrid. Tucked into Garrett's bed.

"D-do you still sleep with her?" she asked, smiling, and Garrett grinned, tucking his wallet into his back pocket; he reached out to stroke the bunny's nose.

"'Course," he smiled. "She's a great little spoon." Lily laughed quietly, smiling.

"She's from when you were a b-baby?" she asked, and Garrett nodded.

"When Marissa and I were born, my dad didn't bring my mom flowers or anything; he gave me Ingrid. Marissa threw out her little cat years ago after an argument with my mom." Lily smiled as she examined the little bunny, reminded of her own tiny plush chick, with its tired blue grosgrain-ribbon around its neck, which her dad had brought for her when she was born. Lily tucked Ingrid back under the duvet, trailing over to Garrett's closet.

"What are all these for?" she asked, indicating the box of CDs, curious about the recycled cards in another box; on the desk, several recycled-card CD sleeves were lying flat, decorated beautifully, and Lily noticed a stack of CDs that had been printed beautifully.

"Oh, I… You know I take photos, for the fashion-show, and weddings," Garrett said, and Lily nodded. "I put the photos all on a printed CD, and package them like this. The customer chooses the style of decoration, and I print it all and put the CDs together."

"Wow," Lily said softly, afraid almost to touch one of the decorated CD sleeves. "H-how long d-does it t-take you?"

"Depends how much I'm being paid," Garrett winked, and Lily smiled. "I try and make a quick turnaround, it just depends how many projects I've got going, whether I have to photograph another event. They don't take very long to make up, once I've got the designs finalised."

"If you n-need any help," Lily said, glancing at him. "I have a f-feeling I'll have m-my evenings free for a while."

"You never know," Garrett said, giving her a smile. "Although, I appreciate it. I might actually take up your offer."

"How many d-do you have to f-finish for the fashion-show?" Lily asked.

"A hundred and fifty," Garrett said, glancing around his room and frowning. "They're favours for the girls who walked the runway, and the coordinators of the event. I've done over half; and I've got a dozen for a baby-shower, fifty for a bridal-shower, someone's engagement photos, and two weddings."

"Wow," Lily's eyes widened. "You d-do a lot of events."

"It helps that my mom knows so many people; she's good at mouthing off about our accomplishments," Garrett said, smiling.

"P-people wouldn't hire you if you weren't g-good," Lily said, and Garrett smiled. "I wouldn't know where t-to start with all of th-this."

"Again, I'm lucky my mom has so many contacts," Garrett said. "I shadowed a few professional photographers, got in contact with some of their suppliers. I don't know; I guess people are a lot more comfortable hiring me because they know me. They can relax around me while I'm taking pictures. Come on. We're gonna be late." Lily nodded and followed Garrett out of his bedroom. Marissa and Summer had disappeared; nothing of them remained but the faint smell of their crème rinse.

As Garrett drove them to the pier, Lily thought on her brush with Marissa and Summer. Perhaps it was ill-founded for her to so virulently dislike Marissa Cooper, when they had barely met before, yet Lily couldn't help feeling the truth of her own words. Ryan could have _died_ in that fire, after being beaten as badly as he had. And this Marissa girl was too concerned with her boyfriend breaking up with her to see that the boy she might have cheated on said boyfriend with was still alive.

She disregarded that _she_ hadn't gone to see Ryan. Because she had nothing to feel guilty about; _he_ was the one who had left, abandoned her. She didn't want to visit him in that place because she knew what would be happening to him, and couldn't face confirming those suspicions. And…she was mad at him. As Garrett had said yesterday, Ryan was the only one who'd never let her down, and he had abandoned her. She couldn't forgive…that Ryan had run away, and that he had almost _died_.

Then she would have been completely alone.

She became aware that Garrett was silently giggling.

"You're th-thinking about my argument with M-m-Marissa," she guessed, and Garrett broke into a deep laugh, nodding. Lily sighed, as Garrett pulled the truck to a stop outside the back-door to _Empire_. "Perhaps I should apologise."

"Don't!" Garrett advised. "You're the first person ever to give those girls a proverbial slap round the face. If someone had done it years ago, they wouldn't be so self-absorbed and spoiled." Lily gave him a look. "Seriously, don't take back what you said. You've given them something to think about."

"B-but I was a little harsh t-to your sister," Lily said shamefully.

"You told her what she didn't want to hear; that's not harsh," Garrett said, locking his truck door. "That's honest." Garrett sighed. "I could stand for some more honesty in my family."

After her shift at _Empire_, during which Sasha shuffled over to her, having come in straight from the beach and showered in the _Empire_ employee bathroom, with a bottle of _Johnson's_ 'No More Tangles' and a comb, asking her to comb his hair free of tangles; Maia stood reading Liz's copy of _Dark Needs at Night's Edge_ aloud, arguing with Liz about their favourite Kresley Cole heroes, and Garrett and Sam terrorised no fewer than fourteen pre-pubescent children about their taste in music. Lily had to take their photographs with Garrett's _Polaroid_ camera, and learned how to use the embossing label-maker, sticking their names below their pictures, and pinning them to the corkboard. Sam reduced two children to tears; Garrett had to give them a free button apiece to placate them.

At ten past six, Mr Cohen appeared, laughing deeply, prevented from joining Brock at the karaoke machine, where everyone had been taking turns since five o'clock, reducing other customers to tears of laughter, alienating several others, coaxing several more to join in, and Lily finished the crust of her slice of cheese pizza that Sasha had brought in for them all for dinner, punched her time-card, said goodbye to Garrett, doing inventory upstairs, popped in to the office to say goodbye to Joe, was attacked by a flying copy of _Dark Desires After Dusk_ from a grinning Liz, who wanted Lily to get in on her and Maia's conversations about the goddess who was Kresley Cole, and followed Mr Cohen out to his car.

"They seem like a colourful bunch of kids," Mr Cohen chuckled, and Lily smiled.

"That's p-putting it mildly," she chuckled softly. "How was the rest of your d-day?"

"Exhausting," Mr Cohen sighed. "How about you?"

"Good," Lily nodded. "Joe seems t-to like me. I g-get on well with the others."

"Always a plus," Mr Cohen smiled, pulling out of the parking-lot onto the main road. "So, when're you working next?"

"Tomorrow afternoon," Lily said. "And th-then on Monday. K-Kathryn from P-p-_Posie_ said she'd c-call on Sunday t-to talk—about when she'd…like m-me t-to work." She wanted to ask Mr Cohen how long he and Mrs Cohen wanted her to stay with them, whether Ryan's arrest would factor into them wanting her to stay longer, feeling guilty and not wanting to seem ungrateful for them giving her somewhere to live, however temporarily, but needing to know. She couldn't keep living in the vague, but she didn't want to upset anyone, least of all these people who had been kind to her.

Mr Cohen pulled his car up onto the driveway; Lily noticed that Marissa's silver _Jeep_ was parked on the street, which meant either her thug boyfriend had come to collect her, or, like Seth, she was spending the night at home. Lily doubted Marissa had ever been grounded before; she took her shoes off in the foyer as Mr Cohen set his briefcase down on the side-table. She could hear video-games in the background; so could Mr Cohen, apparently, because he shouted, "Seth, what did we say? _No video games_!" as he strode down the corridor to the den. Following, anxious that Seth would get into trouble, Lily stopped short before she could run into a frozen Mr Cohen.

Sitting in the den, leaning against the coffee-table and holding an _In-N'-Out_ burger to his mouth, was Ryan.

"Oh."

For a moment, Lily stared at her brother, stunned. It wasn't that he was covered in healing bruises. It was that he was sat playing a ninja game on the _PlayStation_ with Seth, eating _In-N'-Out_. He was here, in the Cohens' den. Not in _juvi_. Mrs Cohen's heels clicked softly on the stone floor as she approached, and she and her husband exchanged a look; bewildered, Mr Cohen followed his wife to the sitting-room. While Lily got herself a drink of milk, she inadvertently overheard their conversation.

"I never knew you to be an impulse shopper," Mr Cohen said.

"I didn't know what else to do!" Mrs Cohen replied desperately.

"Did you tell Ryan it was permanent?" Mr Cohen asked quietly.

"No, of course not!" Mrs Cohen sighed softly.

"Because we can't keep jerking this kid around, pulling him out of juvi, sending him into foster-care, giving him hope and…taking it away," Mr Cohen said softly.

"They were gonna kill him in that place, Sandy, he couldn't stay there," Mrs Cohen said vehemently, and Lily frowned to herself, wondering whether Mrs Cohen had visited the juvi. "But he can't stay here; we've got to find their mother."

"I told you, they don't wanna find her!" Mr Cohen blurted. Mrs Cohen sighed heavily.

"How bad of a mother do you have to be for your little girl to want to divorce you?" she said quietly. "Or risk dying in a fire instead of going back home?"

"Pretty bad," Mr Cohen said sadly. Lily took her little glass of milk and went to sit in the den, passing Ryan as he went to go and put his plate in the dishwasher. Glancing at Seth as she sat down in the armchair, she bit her lip.

"Sorry we didn't come get you," Seth said, glancing at her as he fiddled with his _PlayStation_ controller. "I mean, we did come by _Empire_ on the way home, but you were having a nap. Garrett said just let you sleep."

"You…you went t-to _Empire_?" Lily asked.

"Yeah, this afternoon," Seth said. He glanced at her. "Did you really turn around and claim Marissa Cooper had a 'trouser-fetish' and that it was _her_ fault Luke Ward attacked Ryan?" Lily blinked.

"Where d-did you hear about th-that?"

"Garrett," Seth grinned. "He told me _all_ the gossip. Well, I hope it hit home with Marissa. I bet nobody's ever spoken to her like that before."

"What, honestly?" Lily asked.

"She's the princess of Newport," Seth crinkled his nose in distaste. "Did she try to work those doe-eyes on you?"

"Yes," Lily sighed softly, and Seth nodded knowingly.

"Yeah, every teacher at school falls victim to them at some point," he sighed. "She gets whatever she wants." As Ryan returned to the sofa, looking rather despondent, he picked up his controller, and Seth grinned. "So, Ryan, how does it feel to be out? We were gonna wait till you'd learned how to play the harmonica and filled the long hours playing jailhouse rock before we sprung you, but…"

"Feels pretty good," Ryan eventually said, and Seth grinned.

It was a very quiet night. Playing video-games consisted most of the night's entertainment, but Lily sat curled up on the sofa, thinking. She hadn't expected to find Ryan back here. Horror had played on Mrs Cohen's maternal instincts at the sight of what Seth called a juvenile cage-match during visiting hours, between Ryan and a boy who had been incredibly rude to Mrs Cohen, and Mrs Cohen had signed Ryan out into her custody, afraid that Ryan would get killed before his thirty-to-sixty-days were up.

Atwoods were notorious for avoiding heart-to-hearts and talking about their feelings. It was a consequence of their upbringing, and yet within the Cohen family, feelings were explored freely because Seth's parents _noticed_. They noticed every fluctuation of their child's emotions and they talked at length about their problems. Being around them had broached the dam of Lily's emotions, further encouraging her to explore her feelings with use of a journal to write everything down in.

But she had expected to have some time to think things over, to forgive Ryan for leaving. She hadn't expected him to be in juvi overnight, for two or three nights, to stumble over him when she returned from work.

Communication wasn't really Ryan's strong suit; he had never had a way with words, though he tended to save them for when it really mattered. But Lily had been under the impression that they could talk. They _hadn't_, not for a long time, and that had been one of the causes of her breakdown, yet Lily knew if it was truly important, Ryan would open up. He didn't say much, but it was because nobody had ever listened. And Lily rarely spoke. So that didn't leave them in a very good starting position.

What she wanted… She sighed. What she wanted, at that moment, was to walk next-door and talk to Garrett. But he was at work until midnight, and she got the impression that Garrett didn't always come straight home after work. The way he and Sam chatted about their plans, how Garrett had once been a bad-boy partier, remembering the few hickeys she had seen on his neck… She guessed he was still a boy who loved parties, and whom girls loved, and she couldn't blame him for putting himself out there, having fun. She wished she could. Once upon a time, she had loved parties.

When Seth couldn't keep his eyes open any longer—not even for Scarlett Johansson in _Avengers_—they sent him shuffling upstairs to bed. When Lily followed, after tidying up the den, Ryan frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"Mrs C-c-Cohen moved me upstairs," she said quietly, putting the unused cans of soda back in the refrigerator to chill overnight. Ryan paused at the island, blinking thoughtfully.

"She did?" Lily nodded. She didn't say anything to Ryan about having broken down the other day. She didn't know if Seth or Mrs Cohen had mentioned it to Ryan, but either way, he didn't comment on it. When she made to follow in Seth's footsteps, Ryan sighed heavily, "I just couldn't see any way out," glancing down at the floor like a shamed dog. Lily paused, turning.

"I'd already figured—out a…p-plan t-to g-get us out," she exclaimed, unable to help her outburst. She was hurt, and upset, and she began to suspect Ryan had never been listening to her in the first place, too eaten up with Dawn's abandonment, his recent arrest, the loss of Trey. But she had said plainly, she wanted out; she wasn't going into foster-care. She was taking care of herself; they could live by themselves, get _out_. "You _left_… She… She c-could've—_killed_ you."

"This isn't Marissa's fault," Ryan said, frowning at her, _defending_ Marissa.

"She left a party. Her boyfriend followed. He _attacked_ you," Lily said curtly, her throat burning with emotion. "You know b-better than t-to go after someone else's g-girl."

"I'm not…going after anybody."

"N-not when you thought you were g-going to skip t-town. _Texas_?" she cried hoarsely, her eyes burning. "Were you j-just g-going t-to send me a p-p-_postcard_?"

"Seth was going to make sure his parents took care of you."

"I d-don't _need_ anyone t-to t-take care of me, Ryan! I've b-been t-taking care of our whole—_family_…f-for n-nearly two years!" Lily choked. "I n-needed you not to give up on me!"

She turned, and made her way upstairs, to the room Mrs Cohen had given her. The very first bedroom she had ever had for herself, and it wasn't even hers. She was a stranger in this house, little better than the squatter Ryan had been in that model-home, just with a few thousand dollars to her name and a plan of what she wanted to do with her life. This wasn't…wasn't what she _wanted_. She wanted to be free, _safe_. She wanted to know what it was like…to be happy.

Falling asleep that night, she was anything but. But she clutched her tiny plush chick to her chest as she thought of Garrett, and his bunny called Ingrid whom he loved to spoon with.

She wondered briefly, in that place between sleep and awake, what it would be like to fall asleep with Garrett. How warm, with those big hands, how decadent with his rich, sun-soaked beach scent. Decadence. She cuddled her chick closer, tucked herself further under the covers, and let the tears trickle silently onto her pillowcase.

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**A.N.**: Please review.


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